Harry Potter and the Temporal Beacon
by willyolioleo
Summary: At the end of 3rd year, Hermione asks Harry for some help with starting an interesting project. If a dark lord's got a 50-year head start on you, maybe what you need is a little more time to even the playing field. AU, Timetravel, HHr, mild Ron bashing. Minimizing new powers, just making good use of existing ones.
1. Hermione's Secret Project

**Author's notes:**

- Harry Potter Universe belongs to JKR, and I'm here to mess it up.

- Don't expect this story to ever be complete. It'll keep expanding indefinitely as long as I keep getting ideas. You'll see how it works, after a few more chapters. I will be open to suggestions to new ideas and plotlines to try out, later on.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Hermione's Secret Project**

Harry Potter was torn. Two nights ago, he had met his godfather, Sirius Black! He discovered the so-called dangerous, murdering, Death-Eater convict was not dangerous, had never murdered, fought _against_ Death Eaters in the last war, and was never given a trial and so was never actually convicted of any crime. He was a genuinely cheerful fellow, or at least, as cheerful as an innocent person who spent 12 years in jail could be. The fact that he was still capable of laughter, and love, spoke wonders of his character. This was the man who could be his godfather! Harry was so excited, he could barely contain himself... if it weren't for the other events that happened that night.

The real criminal, Peter Pettigrew, had escaped. Without proof, Sirius was still a criminal, and Harry would never be able to live with him, walk down the streets with him, go shopping or play quidditch with him... and he blamed Snape. That slimy, greasy, git of a professor who could hold grudges across generations was the one who messed everything up and let Peter get away. Minister Cornelius Fudge wouldn't take his, nor Dumbledore's, word on the matter out of fear of a tarnished image from admitting a miscarriage of justice.

On top of that, his first decent Defense professor, Remus Lupin, was already packing up to leave. He, along with Sirius, were Harry's last living connections to his father and mother. He could have stayed at Hogwarts- never mind the rumoured curse on that particular teaching position- but now everyone knew about his... monthly fur problem. Once again, this loss was due to Snape and Fudge again. Snape, just because Remus was James Potter's friend, decided to complain to the ministry that he was a werewolf. Fudge, being the prejudiced minister that he was, immediately forced him out of the position, despite another two weeks of school term remaining. Sure, most of the students wouldn't be affected, as most exams were nearly finished, but there wouldn't be another full moon until summer break already started, and even during the school year, the full moons were never a problem anyways.

Harry could have had everything. Now he was back to square one. He felt a pang of hopelessness, sensing everything he gained kept being snatched from him. Sitting in the Gryffindor common room, half-moping, half-dozing to himself, he didn't notice Ron approach.

"You alright, mate? You should cheer up! Did you hear? Sirius Black managed to get-"

"Ron?" Harry's head jerked up and whipped around. He forgot about telling Ron about what happened later that night. Hermione's time-turner was supposed to be a secret, as Dumbledore explained, but he _did_ say it was alright to tell Ron. But then again, it _was_ Hermione's secret, but she hadn't bothered to tell him just yet...

"-away, right from the dementors. I wonder how he did it? He was tied up in the room, wasn't he? But then again, he-"

"Ron!" Harry didn't want to explain everything right now. Yes, he had just gained a godfather, but he had lost him just as quickly.

"-escaped from Azkaban, so I guess it's not much of a surprise..." Ron was just rambling now. It seemed he had nobody to talk to about the events in the Shrieking Shack, and just decided to spill everything on Harry as soon as he got out of the infirmary.

"RON!" Harry stood up and grabbed Ron's shoulder, looking straight into Ron's eyes. "Look, Ron, I know a lot of stuff happened, but... I just don't want to talk about it right now. I need some time alone to think about all this, alright? I'll... uh... I'll talk to you when I'm ready. But not now. I... um... I just need to go for a walk alone. I'll see you at dinner?"

Harry stepped through the tunnel as the Fat Lady swung out of the way for him. He could hear Ron already talking to the next nearest Gryffindor about that night- with a few embellishment and omissions, of course. Taking the Marauder's Map out from his pocket and tapping it with his wand, he said the key words, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." The map revealed all of Hogwarts and the people inside. Briefly looking around to see what parts of the castle were devoid of dots, he realized how hard it really was to find some solace in the castle. In the late afternoon on a weekend, most of the kids had just returned from Hogsmeade and were wandering the halls or even using some of the empty classrooms to talk about their day. _I guess I could always visit Myrtle_, he thought. _I'd technically be the only living soul in that bathroom..._

Harry had made it to the doors just outside the second floor bathroom when he heard the moaning. "_It's such a shame that Black character didn't get Harry... then he could have stayed here with me in the toilets..."_ He stopped. He definitely wasn't going to go in there.

Wandering down to the front doors, Harry couldn't avoid overhearing more and more conversations about Sirius, Professor Lupin, or Peter Pettigrew.

"...he got away! That guy's one sly bastard." Harry knew they were talking about Sirius, but that was exactly how he felt about Peter.

"...they're removing the dementors? About time. They weren't doing any good anyways. He snuck inside the castle twice, months ago!" Harry never thought about that. It was obvious Dementors were doing a far better job of attacking the students (and him in particular) than catching Sirius. Fudge must have been particularly stupid to keep them on the grounds.

"...shame that Peter Pettigrew and Potter won't get to see justice done." Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry when he heard that one.

"...packing up already? There's still two weeks to go! I have NEWTs next year! I need to learn all I can!" A Ravenclaw passing by reminded Harry of his Defense professor.

"...taking the dementors away? Black's still out there! We need proper protection!" Now who in Hogwarts could have been as dumb as the minister? Right, the Head Boy, Percy Weasley. Best to avoid him for the next little while.

"...werewolf! I can't believe Dumbledore let one in the school. We could have been mauled! This is outrageous!" Harry _really_ needed to get away from everyone before he blew his top and began hexing everyone in sight. He wanted to tell everyone the truth: Remus was a good person, Sirius was innocent, Snape let his parents' betrayer get away. He couldn't, though, since it would just lead to more questions, and then everyone would find out about Hermione's time-turner and his role in Sirius' escape.

He made it out the front doors running, heading straight for the Whomping Willow. Everyone knew to avoid this tree and steered clear of it. He slowed down as he approached it, and decided to sit a rock near the tree, but just outside its range. _Whomp!_ The tree sensed his presence and quickly smacked the ground three feet in front of him. Harry smiled. This was the perfect resting spot. _Thump!_ The tree tried again to hit him, this time with another branch, but its reach was even shorter. _Whap!_ Again and again, the tree flailed in his direction, never quite reaching Harry. _This is actually kind of relaxing_, thought Harry. _It almost has a kind of rhythm to it._

_Thump_

_Crash_

_Bang_

_Crack_

_Donk_

Harry waved his arms as if he were conducting a symphony. Leaning his head back, he stared at the clouds overhead. _I might as well enjoy this as long as I can before I go back with the Dursleys_, he thought. After half an hour, his tree-assisted drum solo ended with a head of bushy brown hair.

"Hermione?" Harry was still staring straight up, as his female best friend leaned over him.

"Hey, Harry. I heard from Ron that you weren't feeling very talkative."

Harry frowned. "It seems to me you're not telling Ron much, either."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Harry turned around to face Hermione. "The time-turner? He still doesn't know about that."

"Oh. Right." Hermione turned her eyes down, looking sheepish. "Well, I thought that I would wait until you told him about the whole rescue mission, first. I mean, I'm not supposed to talk about the time turner, being a Ministry secret and all... you only found out about it because we didn't have another choice."

"Is that why?" Harry started to chuckle to himself. "I was waiting for you to tell him about the time-turner first, because I knew I couldn't possibly explain it to him without bringing the whole mess about time travel into the story."

"So... I guess... we're just not going to tell him, then?" Hermione looked perplexed. Is this a secret they would have to keep from a friend? Out of convenience? She never had any good friends before Hogwarts, and Harry was the best friend she could ask for. Ron was... her other friend. _No!_ she scolded herself. _Don't think like that! Ron's a perfectly... adequate friend._ With that thought, she scolded herself some more.

Harry, seeing conflicted feelings crossing Hermione's face every second, told her, "No, we'll tell him eventually. I mean, if we ever get to see Sirius again, then he'll let the cat out of the bag, won't he? I just don't feel like talking about it now. No... wait, that's not right. I guess I just don't feel like explaining everything now."

He looked at Hermione before continuing. "You know, you're the only one who I can talk about the whole incident openly. With Ron, I'll have to deal with the whole mess about going back in time without him... and you know how he'll feel left out that we _travelled through time_ and didn't bring him along."

Hermione smiled. Yes, that was definitely Ron. She added, "There's also the fact that you gained a godfather and saved a hippogriff, while all he managed to do was get dragged into a hole by a big dog and then he lost his pet rat. Ron just has the worst luck sometimes..."

Harry bowled over in laughter at that point. "When you put it that way, Hermione, I don't think I'll ever want to explain everything to him." They both continued to chuckle quietly for a short while, until Harry frowned.

"Do you think we could have caught Pettigrew?"

"We would have seen ourselves, Harry. That would have messed things up."

"Well, we could have waited a sec and then searched the grass..."

"For a rat? Harry, you have to let it go. He ran away from us, and to catch up to him, we would have had to... well, run right past everyone."

Harry sighed. There was no arguing with Hermione- she always thought things through. "It just really annoys me, Hermione. If only we could have been hiding on the other side of the field..."

"We didn't have time to bring Buckbeak with us, Harry. And he's a bit big to hide... We could lay down flat on the grass, but then Buckbeak would have been sticking out like a sore thumb."

"What if we used the time-turner again? Then there would be three sets of us..."

"Harry, time-turners can't overlap their... time turning. The magic that's tied to the spatial folding within the device has to sustain it for..."

Harry's eyes were glazing over, much like Ron's were whenever Hermione attempted to get him to do more reading. "Err... Hermione, is there a simpler way of explaining that? It means no, right?"

Hermione scowled for a second before smiling again. "Yes. I mean no. Wait... I mean no, we can't turn back a second time. The earliest we could turn back to after that would have been the moment we turned the first time in the infirmary."

"I just wish there was some way to... I dunno, retry it a few more times until we get it right." Harry looked sullen, now.

Hermione perked up when Harry said it. "You know... I might be on to something with that... it's actually the reason why I came looking for you today, Harry."

"What?" Harry was shocked out of his mood, as his mind raced. "You mean we _could_ catch Pettigrew? What do you have in mind? Why do you need me?"

"Harry... no, I can't catch Pettigrew with the idea I have. I can't go back in time that far, unfortunately. But I need you to take me to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Wait, what? You're doing your own time travel or something? What do you need the Chamber of Secrets for?"

"I'll explain when we get there." Hermione smiled, picking up her rather hefty book bag, which didn't seem to be filled with books this time. Harry got up with her, waving one last goodbye to the Whomping Willow, and they marched into the castle.

* * *

"Hello, Harry. I see you're still alive and well," Myrtle said sullenly.

"Um... yes... Myrtle... I just wanted to visit you... again," Harry managed to stammer out. "You look like you could use someone... to talk to..."

"OH!" Myrtle blushed. Well, it looked like a blush, as her cheeks turned whiter and slightly more opaque than the usual translucent grey. "Are you going to join me? _Soon?_" She batted her eyelashes.

Harry was speechless. He paled at the thought of "joining" Myrtle. "I...au...uggh..."

"That's a good start, Harry, but if you're going to die, I'd rather you be a ghost like me than an Inferius." Myrtle frowned. "If you can't fit in the drain pipes with me, how else could we sneak into the prefects' baths together?"

Harry's jaw dropped.

"Harry! What are you doing... oh, hello." Hermione peeked around Harry's shoulder. "Myrtle! What have you done to Harry?"

"Oh, so that's the way it is, Harry? I thought you came alone to be with me and instead there's another _girl_ here with you? You just wanted to show her off to me, didn't you? Just reminding me that I'm not good enough for you? I hate you, Harry, I hate you!" Myrtle shrieked as she plunged into a nearby toilet, sending up a spray of water.

Getting splashed with toilet water managed to snap Harry out of his reverie. Turning to Hermione with a puzzled look on his face, he said "Did Myrtle seem a little more... emotional than usual?"

Hermione became a little flustered with that. "Umm... well, I was actually trying to see if I could find the entrance and unlock it without you this morning, but Myrtle was being a bother. I dropped a calming draught into her toilet... but it seems to have had the opposite effect. It should wear off soon, though."

Harry looked at her incredulously. A _calming draught_ did that to Myrtle? And technically, she didn't even drink it, being a ghost and all. How does that even work?

"Harry... Harry! I need you to open up the chamber."

"Oh, right." Harry turned to the sink, whispering _~Open~ _in Parseltongue.

They made their way down into the chamber, and Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. "Harry... _That's_ the basilisk you fought last year?"

"Um... yeah." Harry was feeling somewhat embarrassed, although he knew there really wasn't anything to be embarrassed about. "I did have help, though. Fawkes pecked out its eyes for me, and..."

"Harry! That thing's huge! Basilisks are a rare beast already, and the biggest ones are usually only 30 or 40 feet long! This thing's twice that! It's probably older and bigger than any other basilisk in the world! Has Dumbledore seen this?"

"No... After I got Ginny out of the chamber, it closed up and I've never bothered opening it up again. You're the first one I've brought down here since last year."

"Really? Ooh, I feel so special, Harry." Hermione grinned mischievously. "Well, anyways, about my project." Hermione opened her book bag, and began removing dozens of small stone tablets, each with rune carvings on them, placing them in a neat pile. Next, she removed a textbook, and a huge stack of parchment, covered in notes and diagrams.

_Project?_ thought Harry. _Runes? That looks so complicated. I'm glad I didn't take that course..._

"This is my OWL project for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy!" exclaimed Hermione happily.

"What? Wait, OWLs? Isn't that until fifth year, Hermione? What is this all about?" Harry stared incomprehensibly at Hermione.

"Well, you see, for both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, you need to do a project for your OWL. Well, two projects, one for each class. I just asked the professors if I could combine the two into one big project..."

Harry nodded.

"...and since I was using a time-turner, I decided to do some extra research on time travel."

Harry nodded, but with a little apprehension creeping in.

"First, I looked up what made time turners work. Obviously, there's a lot of rune work carved into this device, not to mention powerful enchantments, and all that. But the main problem is that it's limited to only a few hours of time travel. I wanted to try for something... bigger."

Harry kept nodding, but at this point his head was just moving on its own while his brain was trying to figure out what Hermione was up to.

"So, I tried to figure out what limited the time-turner's total time travel. I figured it was due to two things. First was the fact that it brought your actual body back in time. Well, it seems pretty obvious if you've learned any Muggle physics, that the more mass you move, the more energy it takes, so moving a whole person back in time would be really difficult especially if you were travelling against the normal flow of time to do it. If there was something massless to send back in time, then... "

Up and down went Harry's head. He was almost completely lost now. He never got to learn any muggle physics, other than how much faster he was than Dudley's gang, because he was smaller. Did that count as physics?

"...the next reason is a little harder to explain. Moving backwards in time is... difficult to aim. In any case, if you've read anything about thermodynamics, apparently for any given present entropic state, the past contains multiple possible states of lower entropy..."

As Harry's head continued to bob up and down, his eyes glazed over.

"The end result of all that is if you attempt to go further back in time, you could end up in a whole other universe or something or even accidentally not manage to come back forward to the present... or at least, the correct present..."

Harry finally stopped moving completely, as his mouth hung open.

"...so that's why I need to use the Chamber of Secrets."

The familiar phrase managed to snap Harry back to reality. "Chamber of Secrets? Right! Why are we down here again?"

"Weren't you listening to me? I explained it all just now, Harry."

"I tried... but then you started talking about physics and all... and I couldn't keep up, Hermione."

"Physics? What part? Most of what I was talking about involved physics."

"Um... you were saying something about your body... and mass..."

Hermione gaped at him. "Harry! That was practically at the beginning! I was talking about that stuff..." she glanced at her watch. "Twenty minutes ago! You should have said something if you didn't understand!"

Harry shrunk back nervously. "Hermione... I just didn't want to interrupt you. You looked so excited to talk about all of this, and I didn't want you to stop... could you explain it again... a bit more simply?"

Hermione sighed. "Alright, Harry. Well, basically, a time-turner is limited to a few hours of travel mainly due to 2 factors: the fact that it brings your body back with it, and the fact that it has to 'navigate' the flow of time, backwards. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded, with comprehension this time.

"So, to make it easier to go back in time, you have to change those. Fixing the first one's pretty simple- instead of sending the whole person back, just send their memories. Memories have no mass, so it's infinitely easier to move them around."

That made sense to Harry.

"The next issue, the 'navigation', is the bigger problem. If you think about it the muggle way, it's pretty obvious you need some kind of navigating ability because time is just another dimension like the three spatial dimensions, and I guess no wizard ever bothered to keep up with advancements in muggle science, especially not in the last hundred years or so..."

"Err... Hermione? You're going into a bit too much detail again..."

Hermione blushed. "Sorry, Harry. Well, anyways, the main problem is hard for a time traveller to 'aim' themselves properly towards the past. So, I figured, why not just use a _second_ device that helps point them in the right direction? Or time, in this case."

This almost made sense to Harry. But if Hermione understood it that well, he'd trust she knew what she was doing.

"The solution is what my project is! I'm making a temporal beacon. This little device uses runes to emit a signal through space and time, so that when you use it with a paired device, it will always send you back to this particular time."

"This time? So that means that, no matter where... I mean, _when_ you travel from, you always end up back here? I mean, now?"

"Well, yes, at least, the time when we activate the rune set. It's not quite as convenient as the time-turner, but this method lets you travel much, much greater lengths of time. Theoretically, at least. And I'm not too sure, but it might also allow for multiple trips, too, which is another weakness of time turners."

"I see now. But... how on Earth did you manage to get all this done in one year? You were already burning yourself out by taking _all_ the classes! You even dropped Divination because of it!" Harry shook his head at his friend with a look of incredulity.

Hermione fidgeted, looking down nervously. "I may have... bought some extra time with the time turner. More than I needed for the extra classes..."

Harry was curious. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "How much extra time?"

Hermione mumbled incoherently.

"What was that?"

"...an extra day for every day. Since I dropped divination."

Harry was floored. "Wow! Hermione, I'm shocked! You took out the _maximum_ amount of time from the time turner? Since Easter? Why, you naughty rule-breaker, you!" He started laughing.

"Rule-breaker? Me? You're one to talk! Anyways, I just wanted some extra rest the day I dropped Divination, so I turned it a full day so I could get some extra sleep. But I didn't sleep the whole day, so I ended up spending the rest of it reading and working on my project... and I realized I might be able to get the first stage of it done by the end of the school year if I kept it up."

"So that's why we're down here? The first part of your project is complete? You still haven't explained why you need to be in the Chamber of Secrets."

"I was getting to that! Well, first, I needed a location that could be secret, and wouldn't be disturbed for a long time. It would have to sit undisturbed until my OWLs, when I have to actually hand in the papers for this project. On top of that, this beacon needs a lot of power. I mean, a LOT of power. I couldn't possibly charge it up using my own magic. Hogwarts, however, is built on top of multiple leylines, which are extremely powerful magical veins that cross the Earth. I figured that the Chamber of Secrets, being deep in the ground directly under the castle, would bring me really close to a leyline, and also let me keep this a secret."

Harry finally understood why they were hanging out in the dark, dank chamber with a giant (and surprisingly, not rotten) basilisk corpse. Hermione began to set up her runes, spreading her stack of parchments across the ground, constantly referring to them to place the runes around the chamber while measuring precisely where each should go. It took several hours, and Harry knew they were missing dinner for this, but he was far too fascinated as he watched Hermione work. When she was finally done, she looked up at Harry.

"Harry, there's one more thing I want to ask of you." She was looking straight at Harry, with a very eager and hopeful look in her eyes.

_Oh no. Hermione? Is she going to ask what I think she's going to ask? I mean, she is a girl... and the two of us are alone in the chamber together, and nobody else is going to interrupt us. Oh my god, I'm not ready for this..._ Harry's mind was reeling, as Hermione approached him slowly. _Oh no, oh no, she's getting closer. Is she really going to do it? Is she going to ask me to kiss her? I mean, she's definitely a nice girl, and she's my best friend, not counting Ron... wait, no, even counting Ron she's still my best friend, but does that make it better, or worse?_

"Um... Harry?" Hermione was right in front of him now, looking worried. She saw him tense up, but she didn't know why.

Harry's brain continued to work in overdrive. _Am I too young for this? I'm thirteen... well, almost fourteen in another month or so, and Hermione's fourteen already, and I guess I've heard of people dating when they're fourteen, so I guess that's perfectly normal. But Hermione? She's like a sister to me, isn't she? Could I really kiss her? Heck, could I kiss anyone? I have no idea if I'm a good kisser or not... I can't believe my first kiss is going to be with Hermione. Wait...when did I already agree to this? She's like a sister, right? I have to say no... She's my best friend, after all. Well... suck it up, Mr. Potter. You're a Gryffindor, aren't you? Just give her a kiss. Heck, you almost gave a dementor a kiss a few nights ago, this can't possibly be much harder than that!_

Hermione held Harry's hands. Her hands were trembling in nervousness as she bit her lower lip. Looking straight into Harry's eyes, she softly said, "Harry... I want you do to it with me."

Harry's brain went from moving faster than he could control and instantly ground to a dead stop.

"...d-d-do...do it? Do it with you?" He managed to mumble out. His brain started to move again, slowly. _Do it with her? Does that mean what I think it means? Isn't kissing supposed to come first? Maybe even some snogging? There's something wrong here. What's she asking for, again? I must have missed something..._

"I want you to do the project with me," Hermione said, more firmly this time.

_Project? What project? Oohhhhh... _The gears in his brain began to put everything together. "Right... sure... but how can I be of any help? I don't know any Runes or Arithmancy."

"You don't have to. I've already researched and planned out what needs to be done, so don't worry. I just want you to be there with me. I don't want to be alone if it doesn't work... or heck, even if it does work. That might actually be worse."

"What do you mean? You're afraid when one of your projects will succeed?"

"Well, you know, if it doesn't work, I have no idea what will happen, but I'd feel more comfortable if you're there with me. And if it does work, I'll be sent back in time, but I don't want to be the only one who 's back, with nobody else to share my life with..." Hermione was quivering in fear at the prospect. Harry saw it, and hugged her.

Whispering into her hear, he said, "Well, of course I'll go back in time with you! I'll never leave you behind, Hermione... as long as you never leave me behind." He released the hug, looking into her eyes and smiled. "Besides, since we're doing this inside the Chamber of Secrets, I'll have to be here to let you in anyways, right?"

Hermione's eyes lit up and a huge smile grew across her face. Gleefully, she started skipping over to the runes on the ground. "Alright, then! I'm going to get everything charged up." She pointed her wand at one rune, muttered a few words, and the rune started glowing lightly. Moving to another rune, she repeated the procedure.

Once she activated all the runes, she sat back with Harry, watching the intricately patterned runes on the floor. "I've turned on the power-tapping runes now. They should be able to take power directly from the leylines to charge up the runes with even greater power."

"How do we know when it's ready?" asked Harry.

"Um... I'm not too sure myself. According to my calculations, once the runes are fully charged, they should somehow 'anchor' themselves to a certain point in time and then it'll become a proper temporal beacon, allowing us to 'find' that exact point in time from anywhere... I mean, anytime."

They watched the runes glow brighter and brighter. They were lighting up the entire chamber with their glow, and the light kept getting stronger. Hermione was watching as her excitement grew and grew- it appeared to be working as planned. Once the glow became unbearably bright, there was a huge flash, and the runes vanished instantly.

Harry and Hermione both fainted in the same instant.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- chapter's revised, nothing more than a few spelling fixes though.


	2. Contemplating Mortality

**Author's Notes:** I don't own HP. There's plenty of Harry to go around!

* * *

**Chapter 2: Contemplating Mortality**

Harry woke up first with a dull headache. Looking around, he couldn't see anything at all, being enveloped in total darkness. Trying to resist the urge to panic, he searched his pockets for his wand, and muttered, "_Lumos_." The wand illuminated his surroundings, and he quickly remembered where he was. The Chamber of Secrets. Right... He was doing something down here, working on some project with Hermione...

_Hermione!_ His eyes darted back and forth across the chamber in search of his friend. Whipping around, he finally saw her laying unconscious behind him. Rushing to her side, Harry knelt beside her, with one hand cradling her head and the other squeezing her hand. "Hermione! Are you alright? Hermione!"

He was getting desperate. He knew he couldn't lose her now. He had spent ages working with Hermione on this project, and he couldn't bear to see her die because of it. He knew they had shared their lives together, spending a good part of a decade at each other's side, keeping each other's secrets... _Wait a minute,_ thought Harry. _Where did that thought come from?_ _I only met Hermione less than three years ago. Why does it feel like I've known her for so much longer? And... the project. _He scrunched up his face, looking at the now-empty floor of the chamber. _Well, it looks like it worked. The runes have anchored themselves into a specific moment in time... wait, how do I know what happened?_

In his confusion, he started pacing around the Chamber. _Ok, I've got to figure this out. What's happening to me? Oh, forget that, I have to take care of Hermione! She needs to go to the infirmary..._ He didn't have much time to think about it, however, as Hermione began to stir. Quickly running back to her, he conjured a glass and filled it with water. "Here you go, Hermione. How are you feeling?"

"Thanks, Harry." Taking the cup into her hands, she sipped the water, and immediately spat it into Harry's face. "Harry! Where did you get this water?"

Dripping wet with a thoroughly unamused look on his face, he replied, "I conjured it for you, Hermione. Jeez, did you think I scooped up some of that sewer water from the Chamber or something? Honestly."

"Um... sorry, Harry. That was the first thought that came to mind. I didn't know you learned the _Aguamenti_ spell already."

Looking at her blankly, he began to say, "No, I haven't learned..." but then stopped himself. That _was_ the spell he used. He had learned it ages ago... but when? _Aguamenti_ was a conjuration, albeit one of the simplest ones. But they didn't even begin the simple conjuring spells in Transfiguration class until 4th or 5th year at least. Did Remus teach him that? No, he spent all the extra time mastering the Patronus spell... hm...

"What did you say, Harry?" Hermione looked up at him expectantly.

"I... err... I think I did learn the spell, but I don't remember when," Harry stated. That wasn't even half of it- he didn't just learn it, he had become so comfortable with the spell he performed it without thinking as he was running towards Hermione.

"Hm... that's odd. Well, thanks, anyways. I'm just glad I'm not drinking sewer water." Hermione grinned as she took another sip, clearly swallowing it. "Where'd you find this cup, anyways? It's really nice."

"I... I think I may have conjured that one as well."

"WHAT? Harry, this is a solid conjuration! This has got to be sixth year material!" Hermione held up the glass to her face, studying it while slowly turning it in her hands. "It's not just a simple glass, either. It's really nicely detailed. You've got the base a bit thicker so it balances really well, and there's these ridges around the sides so it's really easy to grip... When did you learn this?"

"I don't remember! Wait, no, I do remember... I think..." Harry strained as he tried to recall when exactly he got his lessons in conjuration, when an image struck him. "Err... Hermione... I think you taught me."

"What? I didn't..." Hermione looked up at Harry as she seemed to remember the same memory that Harry had. She giggled as she remembered Harry's first attempt at conjuration, a simple glass sphere, which ended up being slightly more oblong and squishy than a glass sphere had any right to be. "Oh, wait... I guess I did help you with it... back in sixth year."

Both Harry and Hermione paused, stunned at her words. _Back in sixth year?_ They were both even more stunned when they realized that was the truth.

Staring at each other, both of them said at the same time, "We need to talk about this."

Looking around the dark chamber, which was still only being lit by Harry's wand, he stood up and held his hand out to Hermione. "Well, let's not do it here. This isn't exactly the most comfortable place to have some headache-inducing discussions."

Grabbing her hand and helping herself up, she said, "You're right, Harry. Do you have a place in mind?"

"I don't know. Let's just get out of here first, though."

When they stepped into Myrtle's bathroom, their stomachs rumbled. He looked over to Hermione, who was avoiding his gaze and looking to the floor with embarrassment. Grinning, he grabbed her hand and led her out of the bathroom. "Well, that settles it. We'll talk about this in the kitchens. Come on."

On their way to the basement, Harry noticed the halls were empty and dark. It was clearly past curfew. How long were they out? He muttered with his wand "_Tempus"_. 12:30. Just after midnight. They should have finished their project well after dinner, but before curfew... around 9:00 or so. They must have been out for a few hours. Another thought struck him. What if they were unconscious for more than a day? Quickly, he said "_Calendata"_. June 19th, 1994. It was still Sunday of the Hogsmeade weekend. Harry let out a long breath in relief. They were only unconscious for a few hours. Hopefully nobody would miss them, other than their dorm mates, since it was still a weekend.

Hermione watched Harry verify the date and time. "You know, you could just combine the two with the _Calentempa _spell. That'll show you the date and time."

Harry looked at her and asked, "Is this another piece of that future knowledge you have?"

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "Nope, this is one I actually learned back in first year. It helps keep me organized, you know."

Harry chuckled. _Of course,_ he thought. _Typical Hermione._

When they arrived at the fruity painting in the cellars, Harry tickled the pear and made his way into the kitchens. Hermione asked, "How did you know to do that?"

Harry replied, "Freaky future knowledge." Hermione nodded, as that seemed to be a perfectly acceptable answer for their actions in the past half hour.

"Dobby! We're feeling kind of hungry, would you mind getting us some food?" With a pop, the crazy house-elf appeared in front of Harry and saluted.

"Yes, Dobby is seeing Master Harry is not being at dinner! Dobby is getting food for Master Harry and friend Herm-nee!" With another pop, he disappeared again.

"_Master_ Harry? When did this happen?" Hermione looked at Harry inquisitively.

"Err... I don't know, honestly. I think it was probably when I freed him from Malfoy last year... but I didn't know that he made me his master."

"Harry, you've got to free him! This is slave labour, you know. Those elves work tirelessly every day and people don't even bother acknowledging them." Hermione was getting rather worked up. This was clearly something she was passionate about.

"Don't try that Spew campaign again, Hermione! You found out why they need to have masters, after all!" Harry retorted. "Besides, you know I'll treat Dobby with all the dignity and respect he deserves for all his hard work."

"Spew? What do you mean, Spew?" Hermione was taken aback, but clearly remembered _something_ along those lines.

"S.P.E.W. You know, where you tried to free the house elves, but then they ended up refusing to clean Gryffindor tower afterwards? You tried that... next year." Harry trailed off as the conversation drifted into confusing waters once again.

"Oh, right. S.P.E.W. Well, why not? It was..." Hermione fell silent quickly as the memories came back to her. _The house-elf bond,_ she thought. _I forgot about that... they do need masters to stay alive._

Their silence was short-lived, however, as Dobby and a dozen other Hogwarts House Elves came running up to them with plates of salad, mashed potatoes, grilled chicken, ribs, pasta, and other goodies, as well as pitchers of pumpkin juice. Their hunger overrode their argument as they quickly loaded up food onto their plates and began to eat. After a few minutes, Harry spoke up first. "You know, Hermione... mm... seeing as how confusing all this is... nom nom... I think we should start at the beginning."

"Harry! Swallow you food before you talk!" scolded Hermione. "Honestly! You're as bad as Ron!"

Gulping down the mashed potatoes in his mouth, Harry grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I think it's the first time I've had as much of an appetite as him, though."

Hermione smiled as she speared another piece of chicken with her fork. "Well, let's start then. You remember the glowing runes in the chamber, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, they were getting brighter and brighter. I was standing right beside you."

Hermione continued, "I remember that pretty clearly too. Then there was a flash..."

Harry interrupted, "...and that knocked us out, didn't it? It looked like it was going so well, and I thought the runework was perfectly fine..."

Hermione tilted her head and stared at him. "_You_ were sure? You haven't even taken runes yet... oh wait, this must be the future stuff again."

"Well, at least we know it worked. I'm pretty sure we sent back memories from the future, and that's how we know all this stuff."

"I agree. At least we know the project is a success... although I didn't anticipate it being so confusing."

Finishing up their meal, they thanked all the house elves, who bowed to them profusely. Dobby was nearly letting his nose hit the floor. Waving goodbye, they stepped back out to the hall.

"We should talk about this tomorrow, Harry. Let's just sleep on it tonight, and we'll talk about it at breakfast, alright?"

Harry agreed with her. They were already pretty tired, and it was getting late. It was a shame he had left his invisibility cloak in his trunk, but at least he still had the Marauder's Map with him. Opening it up and speaking the password, they made sure Filch was at the opposite end of the castle before quickly making their way up to Gryffindor tower. Thankfully, everyone else was in bed already, as they quietly bade each other goodbye in the common room and made their way up to their respective beds.

* * *

Both of them dreamed dreams of the future. An international competition, where Harry was forced to participate. The return of Voldemort, at the hands of Peter Pettigrew. Cedric was dead. Was he really? He remembered Cedric standing in the second-place position on the podium, clapping as Harry held a trophy. Voldemort holding the trophy? How was that possible? Another new teacher who seemed to be hell-bent on hunting down muggle-borns. Hermione wasn't safe! Sirius! Sirius was dead! Wait, no... he wasn't dead, he was at home, punishing Kreacher for lying. Where was his home again? There were Horcruxes! Dumbledore dying... and Snape killing him. Or was Dumbledore alive, and Snape dying? What was all of this?

* * *

Harry got out of bed early, as soon as the first rays of sunlight entered through the windows. He couldn't sleep. While his dreams weren't exactly nightmares, he needed to really sit and think about them. _No, not dreams_, thought Harry. _Memories._ He walked down to the common room and sat on the couch in front of the fireplace. _I wish I could discuss this with Hermione, _thought Harry.

As if his wish was granted, Hermione was quietly creeping down the stairs in her pyjamas. Seeing Harry, she picked up her pace, quickly rushing down the steps and joining him on the couch. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

"No, but the memories are getting clearer," he replied.

"Same with me. Do you remember when we went back in time from?"

Harry scrunched up his face in thought. "Hm... I think it was in fifth year, but it seems a bit confusing. I'm getting conflicting memories for some reason."

Hermione spoke slowly next. "Um, Harry... do you remember going back in time just before our OWLs?"

Harry looked at Hermione, more confused than ever. "What? No, that can't be right, Hermione. I definitely remember sixth year. I found an interesting potions textbook... and you helped teach me conjuration! That was definitely sixth year, you remembered that one, too!"

Hermione nodded. "But you remember fifth year too, right? I wanted to do a final test to see if the beacon was really working... so we made the Time travel runes to send our memories back. And it worked, don't you remember?"

Harry sorted through his memories again. _Fifth year... fifth year... I remember a big pink toad not teaching anything... right! Hermione's project came up again!_

"Yeah... I do remember going back now. But how does that explain how I remember sixth year happening?"

"Before you ask that... let me ask you... what electives did you take in fourth year?"

"Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, of course. Those are the ones I'm taking this year, and it's not as if I could just pick up something like Ancient Runes when I'm already a year behind..." Harry paused. Didn't he? This was odd. He had definitely learned Ancient Runes. Hermione helped him work through the third-year material and he caught up with the fourth years. He was in class with Hermione! But he also remembered being in Divination with Ron. And how could he possibly forget Hagrid's Blast-Ended skrewts? "Hermione... I remember taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. I don't suppose I got a time turner like you did this year, did I?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think that's what happened, Harry. I think... we went back in time more than once."

Harry's eyes bulged out of their sockets at the revelation. "Really? That definitely explains all the weird conflicting memories I have, for one..."

"Like what?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Like... well, Voldemort gets resurrected at the end of the tournament next year..."

"The Triwizard Tournament?"

"Yeah... that's the one. But Cedric was killed in the process..." Harry's voice cracked as the painful memory made his heart jump.

"I'm sorry, Harry..." Hermione reached around Harry's back, soothing him. "I didn't mean to bring up such a bad memory for you."

"No, it's alright. In fact, I think it's better than alright... because I also remember pushing him out of the way and grabbing the cup by myself, and he was still alive when I got back."

"He's not the only one who died, though, is he?" asked Hermione, already knowing the answer.

"No... you remember it too, didn't you? Professor Dumbledore was murdered at the end of sixth year... I think that was a pretty big reason for us to travel back in time. Without him, the war against Voldemort would be... tough, to say the least. " Harry growled in frustration. "Ugh! I didn't think that helping you with your Runes OWL would lead to such a frustrating life, you know."

Hermione hugged Harry and buried her head in his shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Harry! I didn't mean to do this to you..."

Harry hugged her back, and quietly spoke into her ear. "I didn't mean it like that, Hermione. This thing you made seems to let us have second chances! Not many people get to have do-overs with their lives, right? I mean, if I ever get these memories sorted and figure out what to do with them, I think it's quite a blessing."

Hermione lifted her head from Harry's shoulders. "Really? You mean that?"

Smiling, Harry told her, "Yes. Your idea's brilliant! I honestly can't say it enough, but you're the most brilliant witch of our age. No, wait... you're the most brilliant witch ever. I'm pretty sure nobody else has ever figured out how to travel years backwards in time."

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione's eyelids were drooping, as she shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch. "I'll get this all figured out. I think I just need another nap before breakfast. We can talk about this all day."

"Yeah, that sounds good." Harry lowered his head against the armrest. A quick _tempus_ told him it was still 7:00 AM. They could sleep for another two hours and still be in time for breakfast.

* * *

Ron woke up to an empty dorm. It was just past 9:30. Breakfast was being served, and he wasn't in the Great Hall? He quickly got up and went over to Harry's bed to wake him, but it was empty. _What? He's already gone down to breakfast and he didn't wake me up?_ Sunday breakfast during a Hogsmeade weekend were Ron's favourite, and quite possibly the only reason he would ever wake up before noon on a weekend. _The chocolate chip waffles are probably almost gone by now! I've got to get down there, fast!_

Quickly swapping his pyjamas for the nearest t-shirt and pair of pants he could grab, he rushed out the door and thundered down the stairs. He was quickly stopped before he got to the bottom by his brothers, Fred and George. "Hey!" shouted Ron. "What's the big idea?"

"Quiet, dear Ronniekins," began one of the twins.

"This is a momentous occasion here."

"You'd better sit still and enjoy."

"Unless you've got a masterful prank planned..."

"...which we doubt, but miracles do happen..."

"...but don't you dare ruin our betting pool."

"Pranks? Betting? What are you two talking about?" asked Ron.

"Keep it down, Ron! We can't wake them up now..."

"...so have a gander yourself while they're still napping, yeah?"

His view was blocked by a crowd of Gryffindors who were all encircling the couch in front of the fireplace. Most of them were girls, whispering to each other and giggling, especially Parvati and Lavender. A very hushed murmur was going through the entire group. Pushing his way through, he could see a mop of messy black hair on the side of the couch. _Is that Harry?_ He turned to Neville and asked him, "Is that Harry? Why's he sleeping down here?"

Neville looked at him and replied, "Oh... uh... maybe you should take a closer look... but before you do, I have to ask you something."

"Huh? What do you want to know?"

"Did you see Harry come up to bed last night?"

"Uh... no, I didn't," Ron answered. _He must have come back to the tower really late... good thing he had the map handy._ "He must have been doing something late last night, sneaking around the castle or something."

"Ohhh, so Harry didn't come up to bed, either?" Lavender cut in. "Well, I think that confirms it." She turned to Parvati, giggling like mad. Whispering to the group of girls behind her, most of them suddenly squealed in delight... except for one Ginny Weasley, who looked shocked, and quickly bolted towards the girls' dorm stairs.

_Why do those girls keep giggling so much? _ Ron took another step closer, and saw a large, bushy mass of brown hair snuggled right in Harry's lap.

"WHAT?" Ron couldn't help but shout at the top of his lungs at the sight. Of course, given where he was standing, he was practically yelling that into Harry's ear. That caused him to jerk awake flailing his limbs, throwing Hermione off his lap. Hermione, of course, did very nearly the same thing, and the two of them tumbled off the couch in a messy pile.

The questions descended on them before they even knew what was going on. Ron was swept aside in the wave of gossipmongers.

"So, Harry, how long has this been going on?"

"Hermione! Tell us everything! Is Harry a good kisser?"

"How late were the two of you up last night?"

"Where were you two doing it? I didn't- I mean, nobody saw you at the Astronomy tower."

"Couldn't you two have hooked up next year? Bollocks, I was only a few months off... never figured the two of you would have moved so quickly."

Harry realized he was being gawked at by about half of Gryffindor tower at that moment. To his left were dozens of girls from second, third, and fourth year, and a few older ones as well. The looks on their faces ranged from delight to disappointment, and most of them seemed to be very talkative. On his right were Seamus, Dean, and Neville, his dorm-mates; the Weasley twins, grinning maniacally as usual; Ron, looking stunned; and Colin Creevy, clicking away at his camera.

"Colin! What are you doing? Why are you taking pictures of me?"

"Actually, Harry, he's not taking pictures of you... well, not _only_ you," George answered for Colin, as the little boy scrambled away to avoid Harry's wrath.

Hermione, who had been completely silent up to this point, let out a small "eep." She was blushing furiously. Harry turned to face her when he heard the squeak. Looking back at George, he asked, "You haven't answered my question. Why are you taking pictures of us?"

"Well, that's obvious," answered Fred.

"We need evidence."

"Records."

"Proof."

"We can't have people disputing the fact that the two of you are together, can we?"

"WHAT?" Harry and Hermione managed to shout in unison. "What makes you think that we're together?" asked Harry. Hermione managed to keep quiet, her eyes darting from the people, to the couch, to Harry, to Colin's camera, back to Harry...

"Well, Harry. You and Hermione were both up late last night, weren't you?" asked George.

"Err... yes..."

"And you were _together_, weren't you? Where were you to spending such a lovely evening?" asked Fred.

Harry looked at Hermione. He couldn't possibly tell everyone here about the Chamber. And he was such a horrible liar, especially under pressure like this. He replied with the only thing he can think of. "Um... we can't tell you."

"Perfectly understandable, Harry. There's no reason to share all the fine details with us. But do tell, how did the two of you end up on the couch here?" Back to George again. How did they keep coordinating things like this?

"We didn't sleep together here!"

"It sure looked like sleeping to us, Harry. You looked pretty comfortable there. We're pretty sure you just got up from an episode of sleep, not fainting."

"Unless you got _really_ comfortable with Hermione here and she was nice enough to you to make you faint." The twins looked at each other, then back to Harry and Hermione, wiggling their eyebrows. "Anything you'd care to share,

"Huh?" Harry didn't quite catch that last one. People were staring at him with a keen interest. _Oh nuts, _thought Harry. _This is even worse than the whole Heir of Slytherin thing last year. I've got to get out of here. _Harry got up quickly, pulling Hermione up with him. "Let's go, Hermione. We should get away from everyone... let's go to Hogsmeade, alright?"

Hermione didn't have time to protest as Harry pulled her through the passageway out of Gryffindor Tower.

"Well, I think that settles it."

"It certainly does, my dear brother."

"Two dates in as many days."

"Not to mention a night on the couch, too. I didn't even think that would happen until the third date, at least."

"Well, you know Harry. He's a man of action, isn't he?"

"Certainly is. Never a dull year with Harry around."

"Let's go down to the Great Hall and make our announcement. Most of the school should be at breakfast by now."

The Gryffindor common room quickly emptied, save for Ron, who was still slumped on a couch, looking completely shocked. He had completely forgotten about the last chocolate waffles of the year.

* * *

"Hear ye, Hear ye!" Fred and George stood at the front of the Great hall. One of them was ringing a bell, while the other was holding a large piece of parchment, much like a scroll. "The results of the Harry Potter's Precious Person Pool have been compiled. Drumroll, please."

The bell was quickly transfigured into a drum set, and George (or was it Fred?) began drumming.

"For bets on '_June of Third Year_', which pays out at four to one odds- congratulations to Susan Bones, Penelope Clearwater, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, and Alex Stebbings. Next, for bets on '_June of Third Year with Hermione Granger_', which pays out at ten to one odds- congratulations to Madam Pomfrey and Luna Lovegood! Winners, please contact us this evening to collect your winnings."

Rolling up the scroll of parchment and putting away the drum set, the twins marched out of the Great Hall. As soon as they were out the doors, pandemonium ensued at three of the four tables.

* * *

Harry and Hermione used the secret passage into Honeydukes, since he still didn't have a permission slip to enter Hogsmeade. Most of the students didn't remember that small detail, however, so they only had to be careful not to be spotted by staff members. Having missed breakfast, the two of them quickly made their way to Three Broomsticks, where Harry ordered a full English breakfast, while Hermione had two eggies in the basket.

"You know, everyone thinks we're a couple, now." Hermione was glancing back and forth between her breakfast and Harry.

"Yeah, that much is obvious," said Harry, stirring his hash browns with his fork. "We can't let that rumour spread, right?"

"No, we can't. Can you imagine? You're the Boy-Who-Lived! Going out with a plain muggleborn girl... the press would have a field day with you..." Hermione seemed to have lost her appetite, and wasn't touching the remaining pieces of toast on her plate.

"What? You're thinking that's the problem? Hermione, we have to stop them just because it's not the truth! I wouldn't mind if you were my girlfriend, but you aren't, right? You're just my best friend." Harry replied. He thought he saw Hermione's expression brighten for a split second, but she was quickly looking down at her plate again.

"...Right. Of course. We're just friends. This whole situation is one big misunderstanding." Hermione straightened up and looked at Harry. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, calming her nerves, she seemed to want to say something else, but held off. They finished their breakfast in silence, after which Harry paid and they left the inn to walk around town.

They spent the rest of the day discussing what they could remember of the future. It was difficult, but the most poignant memories were also the most emotionally intense ones. They both concluded that the first time they went back, Voldemort had returned at the end of Harry's fourth year, at the end of the tournament. At the end of fifth year, Hermione decided to test out her beacon once and for all and go back in time. That started the next two trips, but they were unsure of which one was which. In one, Professor Snape suddenly dropped dead at the staff table at the end of sixth year, and Dumbledore died just before the train ride home. In another, Professor Dumbledore died earlier, killed by Professor Snape. All three, however, featured Voldemort returning in fourth year. He couldn't quite remember how it happened each time, but it did have something to do with a trophy cup.

As Hermione helped Harry piece together the answers, she seemed to grow more and more distracted by her thoughts. Harry tried to cheer her up by buying her some sweets at Honeydukes, but quickly remembered that she was raised by dentists, and didn't have much of a sweet tooth. Zonko's was definitely not her thing, but they finally settled on browsing the bookstore for a few hours. Not wanting to dine at the same restaurant twice in one day, they inadvertently wandered into Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, but left as quickly as they could. Eventually, they managed to find Cleavican's Fine Meats, the local butcher who also sold sandwiches, and bought some simple smoked meat sandwiches for lunch.

Throughout the day, they had to avoid as many familiar faces as possible, since Harry forgot to bring his invisibility cloak with him in his haste to get out of Gryffindor Tower. Every time Hermione saw a staff member, she and Harry had to quickly duck into an alleyway to hide. When it was nearing dinnertime, they felt they had avoided their classmates long enough that, at the very least, they wouldn't fuel any more rumours. They made their way back to Honeydukes, and took the secret passage back to the castle.

As they sat down for dinner, the twins flanked them on either side. "Well, Harry, Hermione. The two of you have made us a lot of money today. We'd like to thank you."

Harry was completely flummoxed. "What are you talking about? What did we do?"

"Well, you see, many people were unsatisfied with your performance on the couch this morning," said George, sitting to Harry's left.

"Then again, we can't speak for Hermione, and she's really the only one that counts, eh, Harry?"

Fred, on Hermione's right, winked at him. Hermione scowled at him.

"Even photographic evidence wasn't enough for a few of them." At this, both Harry and Hermione glared down the table at Colin Creevy, who spilled his pumpkin juice.

"But nobody could deny your second date with Hermione."

Both of them looked at each other, and then at the twins sitting beside them, speechless. Hermione recovered first. "...Date? What date? Wait, what do you mean by _second date_?"

"We couldn't imagine a more perfect day for a young couple."

"Yes, with breakfast at Three Broomsticks, jaunts to every which shop around Hogsmeade..."

"...including a notable visit to Madam Puddingfoot's..."

"...followed by a picnic lunch..."

"Don't forget the snogging."

"Oh, of course. The most important part of any date. The secretive, back-alley snogging sessions."

Both Harry and Hermione blushed furiously at this. "We weren't snogging!" Harry declared. "We didn't even have anything at Madam Puddingfoot's!"

Hermione continued for him. "And we weren't snogging in the alleys! In case you forgot, Harry isn't allowed in Hogsmeade!" she continued in an angry, but hushed, whisper. "Look, Harry and I aren't a couple, right, Harry?"

"No... we're just friends," he confirmed. "Is everyone going to be bothering us about this tonight?"

The twins looked at each other. "Well, the betting pool did involve nearly two hundred people in total... I think they'd be expecting some answers. The others might just be curious, though."

"Betting pool? What's this all about?" asked Hermione.

"Who and when Harry's first love would be."

"You were taking bets on Harry's love life? I can't believe the nerve of you two!" screeched Hermione. "What would the professors say?"

"Well... Professor McGonagall said 'Five Galleons on December, Fourth Year.'"

Hermione didn't know if she should feel defeated, or angrier. Grabbing Harry, she quickly said, "We're not going to deal with this mess. Look, we're not a couple, all bets are off, and we're leaving." The two of them quickly left, quickly heading for the second floor bathroom.

* * *

Hermione was still pacing back and forth, muttering to herself, half an hour after leaving dinner. Harry decided to interrupt her by asking, "Hermione? Can you tell me what was bothering you today?"

She stopped pacing and stared at him. "Isn't it obvious? The twins, and that stupid pool they had on your love life!"

"No, I meant earlier in the day, back in Hogsmeade. When we started to figure out what was going on with the future." He gestured to Hermione to sit down beside him. "Well, in all three cases, it seems like Voldemort's returning. I don't think we can stop that. Is that what got you down?"

"What? No, it's not V-Vo-Voldemort. I'm not too worried about him... not at the moment, anyways."

"What? Really? You've got bigger things to worry about than Voldemort?" Harry was amazed. Was there anything scarier out there than Voldemort being resurrected and returning to power? _Asking a girl out on a date, maybe._

"Yes... sort of. Tell me, Harry, have you ever heard of the Anthropic Principle?"

Harry didn't bother replying, instead only frown slightly with a questioning look on his face.

"Oh, right. Of course not. Well, basically, what it says is that for the universe to be observed, there has to be something there to observe it. And it works the other way around, too. The observer has to be able to exist in that particular universe to observe it."

"That sounds kind of... obvious. And circular. How is that scarier than Voldemort?"

"I'm getting to that! Um, next question... do you remember how V-Voldemort was doing right before we jumped back each time?"

"From what I remember, he was gaining power. Things weren't looking good. That's probably why we went back in time, right?"

"Yes, I think so too. Which brings me to my next point. Why did we stop?"

"Stop? What do you mean?"

"Well, when we activated the beacon, all our past trips flooded our memories all at once, right? We managed to figure out that we took three trips backwards in time."

"Right."

"So, that means... This time around, it's our last trip, isn't it? We're not going back again, or else we would have the memory of it."

"No, we might be... wait, no, that wouldn't make sense. If it all comes back at once... huh, you're right. That's why you asked me about that principle-thingy right?"

"Anthropic Principle. And the worst part is, I don't remember us getting any closer to defeating Voldemort on all our trips back. I don't think we'll have any kind of major advantage this time around, either." Hermione was shaking as she said this, and nearly crying.

"What are you saying, Hermione?" Harry could sense her fear, and it made him feel afraid as well.

"I'm saying that... we're experiencing this as our... our last trip... because I don't think... we might not... survive to go back again," she answered quietly. Crying, she hugged Harry, and he held her. Neither one could think of an alternative explanation.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Chapter revised. I've made a few minor changes here to possibly help vague-ify things. I might need to revise again as the story develops, but there's nothing major that will change in the plot.


	3. Reliable Data Transmission

**Author's Notes:** JKR owns HP, yadda yadda.

- I'm trying very hard not to make this a Dumbledore/Weasley bashing fic, even though I'm a pretty big fan of Manip!Dumble fics, and I feel that canon Ron is still a git. That doesn't mean I can't mess around with them in the future chapters, though.

- lastly, if anyone **actually** studies Proto-Germanic languages and would like to give me better translations, feel free to mention it in the comments.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Reliable Data Transmission**

Hermione was still looking quite morose at breakfast on Monday. Harry sat down beside her, and gave her a nudge. "Cheer up, Hermione. I've been giving it some thought... there might be other reasons why we only went with three trips back."

She turned to look at Harry, her shoulders still slumped over as she picked at her food. "What could it be? I mean, I can't remember everything clearly, but one thing that stood out was..." she glanced around, lowering her voice to a whisper, "..._horcruxes_. We never found them all, did we?"

Harry shook his head. "No, we didn't... and there were several more to be found when we sent ourselves back."

"So we definitely don't have the information we need to defeat Voldemort this time around... and why wouldn't we go back and try again if we could gain even a small advantage each time around?"

"No, that's definitely something we would do... hm..."

"And even if we _did_ manage to defeat Voldemort through an amazing amount of dumb luck, I doubt we'd come out of it without casualties, would we? I know you, Harry. If you could, you'd keep trying and trying again until you somehow managed to save _everyone._"

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "You're right, Hermione. You know me really well, don't you? Well, maybe we can look into..."

At that point, Ron had apparently woken up, gotten changed hastily, and sat down beside Harry. He began scarfing down breakfast at his usual, inhumanly fast pace. After clearing his first plate, he only slowed down just enough to make a few noises as he was eating. "Wa wur oodoo doo eshuray?"

Hermione ignored him, which was really quite amazing given the mess he was making as he attempted to talk. Harry was the one who scolded him this time, "Ron! Swallow your bloody food before you talk, will you?"

Ron stopped eating momentarily in surprise. Swallowing the food in his mouth, he asked, "Isn't it Hermione who usually tells me to do that?"

Harry replied, "That's not the point, Ron. It really is disgusting when you talk with food in your mouth. I just said it faster today. What were you saying before?"

Ron was taken aback by Harry's blunt statement, but he repeated, "What were you two doing yesterday? I didn't see you guys at all after you left the common room. You have any idea what people are saying about you two?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then back to Ron. Given the twins' antics yesterday, they were pretty sure people were talking about their supposed "relationship." They had flat-out denied it, right? But did that make things better, or worse? Silly rumours never let details like facts get in the way. How bad could it be, though? So they hung out together, but they've been doing that for the past three years. The only difference this time was that Ron wasn't there with them... was that all it took to make the difference between "hanging out" and "dating?"

Harry ventured the question first. "Er... we didn't spend much time inside the castle yesterday, Ron. What _are_ they saying about us?"

"Well, I'm not going to believe the crazier rumours, of course. I heard that you got Hermione pregnant or something-"

"_Pregnant?_" Hermione managed to repeat that one word, but was otherwise speechless.

"I said I didn't believe them! Lavender said something about you looking sick this morning, but I don't know anything about that. Did you manage to catch a cold or something yesterday? You should see Madam Pomfrey about it, I mean, a potion will fix that right away, won't it?"

Hermione couldn't believe what Ron was saying. Then again, she _could_ believe that Ron was saying it. Evidently, Molly had never given him T_he Talk_, but then again, whoever Ron had heard the rumours from probably knew a little too much about all the wrong things. _Morning sickness?_ The supposed "date" was only yesterday! What on earth were they thinking? In fact, the thought of teenage pregnancy scared Hermione. She knew that, at least in the muggle world, teen pregnancy often meant dropping out of school... the very thought of that made her want to throw up a little. _No, wait, definitely don't want to do that this morning... deep breaths, calm down. Definitely act Not Pregnant... Oh dear Merlin, how's Harry taking this?_

Harry, evidently, had never been given The Talk, either. He was looking back and forth between Ron and Hermione in confusion. Ron was still continuing to ramble. "So the twins told me that you two never showed up for breakfast _or_ lunch at the castle, and that you were together the whole day. Why didn't you tell me you were dating?"

Harry held up his hand. "Ron, stop. We're not dating. We just spent the day talking about... stuff."

"Stuff? What kind of stuff?" Ron asked inquisitively. "C'mon, Harry. I'm your best mate. You can tell me."

Harry turned to Hermione with a pleading look in his eyes. He knew this was something they couldn't share with Ron... and evidently, their future selves didn't bother sharing it, either. He didn't want to _lie_ to him outright. He simply couldn't do that to a friend. Hermione noticed his discomfort with the situation and came to his rescue with a single word. "Runes."

"What? Runes?"

Harry caught on quickly. "Ancient Runes, Ron. I, uh, was thinking about dropping Divination next year and taking Ancient Runes with Hermione instead. We were talking about Runes all day, and she was giving me her notes, so that maybe I wouldn't be too far behind next year." Technically that wasn't a lie, as he definitely needed to swap over to runes next year so that he might be able to lend a hand with Hermione's project.

Ron was flabbergasted at the announcement. "Are you serious, mate? That's one of the hardest courses! You _want_ to swap over to Ancient Runes, when you're already a year behind? You're barmy!"

"Yes, Ron, I'm serious," answered Harry through gritted teeth.

Ron continued ranting, oblivious to Harry's displeasure. "But on top of that, you're dropping Divination? It's the easiest course! It's almost like a free OWL! You'd have to be absolutely nutters to drop Divination and take Runes! Honestly, what kind of a fool would do that?"

Harry dropped his face into his palms. Ron had done it again. There _was_ somebody sitting right beside them who _had_ dropped Divination just a few months ago... not to mention the fact that Harry had just admitted he was completely serious about taking Runes in its place. Harry may have been able to forgive Ron for his careless yammering, but Hermione...

"A fool, am I?" Hermione glared at Ron. "So I'm completely nutters, am I? You're lucky exams are already over, Ron, because I swear it's going to take _months_ before I even _think_ about helping you with your homework again. Maybe if you keep up with your Divination course you could actually predict what going to come out of your mouth before you open it!"

With that outburst, she got up and left the table. Harry quickly followed, shaking his head in disappointment at Ron and muttering, "Maybe it would have been better if you just kept eating instead of talking, Ron." He left Ron at the table, who was looking around, still wondering what he had done wrong.

Just outside Professor Flitwick's classroom, they ran into Draco Malfoy and the pair of walking lumps of meat. Harry groaned inwardly. He didn't want to deal with this. _Here it comes_, he thought.

"So, Potty, you decided to snag yourself the mudblood, huh? Goodness knows a _proper_ witch would never give you the time of day," he sneered.

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy, or else she'll punch you again." Harry snickered at the memory. That was one he could always count on for a patronus.

Malfoy kept his haughty tone, and narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "That just proves you're worthless as a witch, mudblood, fighting like a muggle. You haven't got the guts to face me in a proper duel."

Harry looked at Hermione, who really did look like she was about to punch Draco again. Harry replied, "If you don't remember, Malfoy, it was you who backed out of the duel you challenged me to back in first year. Are you ever going to go through with it, or are you just going to keep running away?"

That statement struck a nerve. Draco raised his wand at Harry to hex him, but Harry instinctively threw off a _Silencio, Petrificus Totalus, _and _Incarcerous_ in single, chained motion. Malfoy wasn't able to speak his first spell off before he was silenced, and quickly fell down to the ground, stiff as a board and bound in ropes. It was at that moment that their Charms professor walked onto the scene. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for raising your wand against another student, Mr. Potter. Now would you care to explain what happened?"

Harry froze. Looking at the diminutive professor, he put his wand back into his pocket and was about to apologize, but Hermione interrupted. "He was defending me, professor. Malfoy called me a... mudblood. Twice. He was trying to pick a fight, as usual."

"Is that so? Well, twenty points from Slytherin then, for use of foul language. I won't have such... intolerant... words being uttered in my classroom." Professor Flitwick frowned openly at Draco, showing that his partially-goblin heritage revealed itself quite prominently in his teeth as much as his stature. Draco paled when he saw the display. Turning to Harry, his attitude lightening considerably, he said, "That was excellent spellwork there, Mr. Potter. I'd ask you to do it again if I didn't have to take points away from you. Where did you learn to duel like that? It certainly couldn't have been from that travesty of a duelling club from last year, could it?"

"Er... no, Professor. I'm not sure, really. It was just a reflex," Harry answered, fidgeting nervously.

"Is that so? Well, it certainly reminds me of my younger days, when I was a professional dueller. With reflexes like that, I wonder how you'd do with proper training in duelling." The professor smiled. "Well, enough with the chatter. Time to begin our class! Come on, everyone, into the classroom!"

It wasn't until everyone had filed through the door, walking past Draco, who was still bound and frozen stiff on the ground, that Professor Flitwick dispelled the jinxes from him.

Charms class consisted a review of Cheering charms as well as a few others. Harry decided to practice with Hermione, thinking she really needed the cheering up. Ron had caught up to them after the incident with Malfoy was over, but Hermione was ignoring him. His charms were only mildly successful as he practiced with Neville, and was barely any better at it than his much-ridiculed partner was.

Hermione was much more cheerful at lunch. Alright, Harry admitted he had been rather sneaky about it, casting two cheering charms in quick succession at Hermione and then cancelling only one. It would wear off eventually. He just didn't want her to be so sullen all day, worrying about impending doom because of some odd philosophical observation. He did want to talk about the time-travelling more, but was trying to avoid turning towards the grim thoughts that Hermione was having. Thankfully, her (temporarily) brighter attitude helped the conversation open up with a lighter topic.

"So, do you remember how you learned to duel like that, Harry?" Hermione asked. "I mean, obviously, it was a part of the future memories, wasn't it? But even if you remember learning the spells, you still need to practice them to cast them so well, don't you?"

Harry scratched his head. "I don't know, really. I honestly can't dig up the memory of when I actually learned those spells. But I wasn't thinking of a particular spell when I did it. It was more like a reflex."

"You certainly cast those spells quickly! Your wand didn't even stop moving between the spells! You had to have practiced it."

"I think I did practice it, Hermione. I got this feeling, when I saw Malfoy draw his wand, that I'd been there before. Well, since I've lived through the future three times already, I guess I had been there before. But it was still a rather vague feeling, like... I don't know... déjà vu, I guess. I think I've been through a lot of duels in the future, and I opened up with that spell combination for most of them."

"I get the same feeling when I'm reading my notes. It's like some of them are more important than others, and that I have to do something with the information, but I just can't seem to recall exactly what it is I have to do..."

A thought struck Harry. "Hermione... what if this is the best that the beacon can do?"

Hermione turned to him. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"I mean, what if... all these vague feelings and fuzzy images of the future are all that we can manage to send back? I mean, my spellcasting has improved a little bit, and we have a very rough idea of what's going to happen in the next few years... but what if that's all we get? Then there's no point in sending ourselves back over and over again if we're never able to use the information."

Hermione looked at him for a while before speaking, and smiled slightly. "Yes... that does make sense. Oh, I'm so relieved..." At this point, Harry wondered if the Cheering charm had finally faded, as her expression quickly turned to a frown. "Darn! I was hoping it would be so much more useful than that! I thought I was going to revolutionize time travel..."

Harry kept his face blank as he grabbed Hermione's shoulders. "Hermione, listen to yourself. You're _disappointed_ that you haven't managed to _revolutionize time travel_ while you're in third year?" He started laughing. "You've already done the amazing, and you've pretty much proved to me that time travel is technically possible, going years back! Maybe we can improve on your ideas in the future, but I think it's safe to say you've already done something more amazing than any other third-year has done... or will ever do, in fact."

With a huge smile on his face, he hugged her tightly, whispering into her ear, "You're the most brilliant witch of our times, Hermione. Never doubt that. You'll always amaze me."

Hermione left lunch that day with a genuine smile, no cheering charms needed.

* * *

The two of them would, however, need cheering charms to get through the afternoon without losing their tempers. Professor Snape strode into class, his cloak billowing behind him. "Today, class, we will be brewing the Scouring Potion. I dare say that _some_ of you," he said, looking straight at Neville, "...could possibly end up with a cauldron even dirtier than a proper scouring potion could clean."

"Hey, where were you at lunch?" Ron whispered to him.

"Um... looking at Hermione's Runes notes," Harry answered.

"Potter! Brewing a potion does not require you to open your mouth," Professor Snape snapped. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

The rest of potions class continued as usual, but Professor Snape seemed to be especially vindictive today. Harry figured he was still seething at Sirius's escape, and despite not having any evidence, blamed Harry for it. Then again, whether he was responsible or not, Snape probably would have taken his frustration out on him anyways. He managed to lose another 50 points by the end of class, and despite brewing a potion that was only a slight shade lighter than it was supposed to be at the final step, Snape declared it "worthless" and vanished his work before he could complete it.

Harry glared at Snape when he did that, and the moment their eyes locked, Harry felt a presence in his mind. There was something pushing, searching... _NO! _he thought forcefully. _He must be searching my mind... he's done this before... I know it... _Harry vaguely recalled sitting across from Snape, losing all his precious thoughts to the bitter man. _I have to protect myself... shields... mental shields..._

Harry, again, reflexively put up a mental shield, blocking the force that was poking into his head. Snape was taken aback slightly, but continued to stare at him. Harry was unable to break his gaze, and felt a more directed force in his head. _Sirius... how did Sirius escape..._ The words edged inwards, prodding his barriers. Thoughts of Sirius and Buckbeak began to rise to the forefront of his mind, but Harry quickly quashed them down. He wasn't going give an inch. He was determined to leave Snape empty-handed. He finally managed to break eye contact with Professor Snape, who stumbled back a step.

"Potter! You insolent little boy, I'll have you..." began Professor Snape, enraged.

"Do what, _Professor_? You're going to try to expel _me_? For _being attacked_ by you? Don't bother sending me to the Headmaster, Snape. I'm going there already." Harry gathered his brewing equipment, packing quickly, and strode out the door. As soon as he was in the hallway, he ran straight for Dumbledore's office. He could hear a shout of "Detention, Potter!" echo from the dungeons.

When he got to the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, he realized he didn't know the password. "Um... Lemon drop? Sugar quill? Honeydukes chocolate? Bernie Bott's Every Flavour Beans? Bernie Bott's Earwax Flavour Beans?"

"For future reference, Mr. Potter, I do prefer my password to be sweets that I enjoy." Professor Dumbledore was standing right behind him. "The password for today is Cockroach Cluster. Now, please, step into my office. Is there something you'd like to discuss?"

As they walked into Dumbledore's office, he sat behind his desk while Harry took a seat in front of him. Fawkes trilled in greeting.

"Hello, Fawkes!" Harry waved to the phoenix. The sight of the majestic bird always managed to lift his spirits. Turning to Dumbledore, he began recalling what had just happened in Potions. "Potions class was... well, it was pretty standard for what Snape teaches."

"Professor Snape, Harry. Do continue."

"Sorry. Well, just after Professor Snape vanished my potion, he looked at me straight in the eyes. I suddenly felt that I couldn't look away, and felt something in my mind, trying to grab at my memories. I think he was searching for something about Sirius. I managed to break away before he could get anything. That's when I left the classroom and decided to come to you. He may have given me detention for it, too, but I didn't stick around long enough to hear it."

A look of astonishment managed to cross Dumbledore's face for a second before returning to his kind, grandfatherly expression. "You're saying you felt Professor Snape probe your mind? And you managed to fend him off?"

"Yes, sir." Harry was growing agitated. Didn't Dumbledore care about what Snape had done to him? This had to be against the rules... if there were rules about this, at least. Harry wasn't sure about that. "It certainly felt like he was invading my privacy," he said with a scowl.

Dumbledore straightened up. "Harry, rest assured that what Professor Snape did to you was most certainly not proper conduct for a professor of Hogwarts. I will have words with him about this. I have one request, however."

"What is it, professor?"

"I would like to test your mental shields. Please trust that I will not take anything from you that you do not wish to give me. I only want to see the strength of your defences."

Harry thought for a moment. _Professor Dumbledore can do that too? Well, at least he's more trustworthy than the greasy git._ "Very well, Headmaster," he said as he looked straight into Dumbledore's eyes. He immediately felt some tendrils sweeping around his mental barriers, much more gentle than the prodding he felt from Snape. He felt more and more pressure from them, however, but just before he felt his shields crack, the tendrils retreated.

"Very interesting, Mr. Potter. Where did you learn to do this?" Professor Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling merrily.

"I'm not sure, sir. I didn't know I could do that until Professor Snape invaded my mind this afternoon."

Professor Snape burst into the room at that moment, his face red with anger. "Albus, that boy is not to be trusted! He is keeping secrets- dark secrets. He couldn't have learned Occlumency on his own! He must have helped that convict Black escape!"

_Occlumency?_ thought Harry. The word triggered a flood of emotions and images in his head, but he kept silent.

Professor Dumbledore stood up to face Professor Snape. "Severus, you will calm down this instant. Harry Potter has not wronged you in any way. If you do not learn to let go of your old grudges, Severus, they will only haunt you for the rest of your life." Turning to Harry, he said, "You may go, and your detention has been cancelled. I will need to have some private discussions with Professor Snape."

Harry Potter left the office, confident that he had actually won a battle against Snape, for once.

* * *

Harry caught up to Hermione, who was making her way back to Gryffindor Tower. She was still making a point of ignoring Ron, and made a beeline for Harry when she saw him. "Harry! What did you do? What did Professor Snape do?"

Harry grabbed her wrist, quickly whispering "I'll tell you all about it, in the chamber." Hermione's eyes widened, and she quickly followed.

As soon as they passed through the chamber's doors, Harry quickly turned to Hermione and asked her, "Do you remember Occlumency?"

Hermione was startled by the question. "Occlumency? No... wait, yes! I do remember doing Occlumency! What does this have to do with... oh, Harry! Is that what Professor Snape was doing to you this afternoon? He was attempting to enter your mind?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, but thankfully, he doesn't know about this. He was pretty surprised that I had any shields at all. He was looking for things about Sirius's escape. I think he wants to prove I had something to do with it and get me expelled."

Hermione gaped at him. "That's what he wanted? He can't! I mean, even Dumbledore knows Sirius is innocent! He can't do that to you!"

Harry grinned. "I know. When I told Dumbledore, he cancelled my detention and I think he was about to reprimand Snape when I left the office. But that's not the point... I think we should keep practicing Occlumency, just in case. This is a really powerful device, and we can't let the wrong people find out about it."

"You're right, Harry. I think we should take up practicing it every day. It'll help us organize our thoughts as well... maybe we can figure out more details about the future with it. When should we start?"

Harry grinned. "No time like the present. Nobody's going to disturb our meditations down here, and we still have a few hours before dinner."

After two hours of practice, they had made enormous strides in creating their mental barriers. It seemed that, at least for one cycle, they had been practicing it every day, and they had their minds fairly organized and shielded. However, Harry noticed a discrepancy within his own mind.

"Hermione? Do you notice anything... odd about your memories? Especially a few of the future ones?"

"Funny you should mention that, Harry. Are you talking about the ones that seem to have their own built-in shields? I think I came across a few of those myself."

"This is odd... I'm going to open one up and see what it is..." Harry concentrated for a minute, trying to peel away at the encapsulated memory. It was definitely a shield he had created himself, as it felt almost identical to the shield he had made for his own mind. After half an hour of intense concentration, he broke through and recalled the memory as clearly as he could. He gasped at what he was now remembering- runes. They were several specific runes, but half a dozen complex rune phrases, and their appropriate carvings. He could see them clearly. It was as if he had spent weeks committing every detail of these particular runes to his memory. "Hermione? Do you have some parchment and a quill? I think I need to write this down."

"Err... Me too, Harry. I just opened up one of my own memory-capsules. I need to write this down, too." Hermione scrambled for her book-bag, pulling out two quills and a stack of blank parchment. Both of them began writing and drawing furiously. Between them, they ended up with lots of rune phrases involving the runes of Memory, Time, Return, Landmark, and Identity. They looked up at each other, and back to the runes. Hermione quickly scrambled back to her book-bag, and pulled out the original notes she used for her beacon. "Harry... I think I know what this is."

"I think I know too, Hermione... but do explain it to me in case I'm missing something."

"I think... this is an improved version of the beacon. We sent ourselves memories of an improvement on the beacon. Look, my original didn't bother with the _Setzis_, the rune of Identity. I think these ones will be keyed to our magical signatures. On top of that, there's an entire second layer over everything I did before- there's _Arlantz_, rune of sequence, linked with _Koteib_ and _Teantso_, runes of progression and counting. There's also _Lomelke_, rune of Dominance, bound tightly with _Lakehns_, rune of Clarity, but I'm not sure what that set really does. The whole rune phrase is ordered above the Memory runes in the beacon."

Harry nodded, and then grinned wildly. "Hermione! Do you know what this means?"

Hermione looked at him with a puzzled expression, obviously still trying to figure out the runes drawn in front of her. "No, I just said I didn't, Harry. This is going to take me a while..."

"No, no, no... I mean about time-travel!" Harry was very nearly jumping for joy. "_This_ is why we didn't remember anything beyond three futures ahead! We sent back memories to build a newer, better beacon! And since it seems like nearly all the additions are focused on the memory runes of the beacon, I think we figured out a way to send back memories better and clearer. That's what the _Lakehns_ is for, right? Maybe we won't be stuck with confusing, fuzzy, déjà-vu-like memories each time!"

Hermione eyes shone with an excitement that Harry was familiar with- she always looked like that when she realized there was plenty of research to be done, and she knew exactly where to discover the information. "Harry, that's brilliant! We have to finish this as fast as possible! And we have to unlock all of the memories we stored in our little Occlumency capsules!"

Harry was taken aback by Hermione's sudden enthusiasm. "Huh? Why? This is exciting and all, Hermione, but what's the rush?"

"Oh, don't you see, Harry? We figured this out in one of our futures, right? So why didn't we just build the improved beacon then, instead of sending the instructions back in time to build it now?"

"Err... wait, why didn't we just do that?"

"_Time,_ Harry! It's a precious resource, you know. You remember, in the time we got to the end of sixth year, Dumbledore was dead, and Voldemort was gaining power every time! We need to build this as early as we can so that we can have as much time to prepare... even if we have to go back a few more times after that, the earlier we are, the bigger advantage we'll have."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Right... let's work on unlocking these every night... I want to make sure we have all the important, packaged memories, just in case one of them is some kind of warning _not_ to do something. We can make a plan after we've got them all."

* * *

They spent every evening, before and after dinner, unlocking all the encapsulated memories as they could. It took them a few days to get everything. It only had some of the most important information. Aside from the partial temporal beacon upgrades, he had sent himself information on the known Horcruxes (A ring that would injure Dumbledore; Slytherin's locket, which was fake; the diary, which was already destroyed; Ravenclaw's Diadem and Hufflepuff's cup), and the prophecy. Hermione had sent herself information on where to find the Room of Requirement, as well as the rune setup required to actually send a person's memories back. Hermione was excited with this information, as she said it was the "harder" part of her project, and she had expected to keep working on it until her Runes OWL project was ready to hand in.

Both of them had sent themselves back memories of how to actually encapsulate memories in their own Occlumency barriers. Apparently, it was the only way they could figure out how to ensure a memory would be retained clearly. There was a very limited amount of memory that could be sent back with this method, so they only stuck to the most pertinent information- and dedicating entire rune sets, with arithmanced measurements and layouts, to memory severely limited the other information.

While they received the memories of the improvements to the temporal beacon, it took them (mostly Hermione, actually) several more days to understand its new functions. The Clarity runes, linked to every Memory rune, were obviously there to make sure the memories arrived in the past distinctly. The Experience, Control, and Dominance runes had an interesting function- they ensured that the _last_ memory to arrive would be the "dominant" memory, so they would arrive in the past remembering what they have done, instead of feeling like they had a bunch of images from the future shoved into their heads. On top of that, the Sequence, Order, and Counting runes tied to the Dominance memory also allowed them to fully experience each "trip", in order, instead of receiving an overwhelming flood of every single trip through at once. The last modification had little to do with the runes themselves, and everything to do with what they were carved on. Hermione had, in one final, tiny encapsulated memory, reminded herself that her original runes were carved in soft sandstone, the standard stone used in Ancient Runes class. To make a much stronger, more powerful, and durable rune, they were to use marble. And there was plenty of marble within the chamber of secrets itself. The weaker material was the real reason they only dared to go as far as three years ahead before returning.

With their plans all laid out in front of them, tools at the ready, and only five days before the Hogwarts Express arrived to take them home, Harry and Hermione set their plans in motion.


	4. One and a Half Train Rides

**Author's Notes: **JKR owns Harry Potter

* * *

**Chapter 4: One and a Half Train Rides**

Carving the runes was quite simple, once they figured out how to do it. The advantage of marble over sandstone was also the main problem. It was incredibly difficult to carve, but the carvings would be able to channel several orders of magnitude more magical energy than a sandstone rune would. The basic runic carving kit that Hermione had purchased was only good for making the barest scratches on marble, damaging the tools more than the stones. Then she realized why she had locked the memory of Room of Requirement, and the procedure to open it, away so tightly in her mind. It would be the key to their success. The room provided a large, fully furnished, professional warder and enchanter's workshop. They were the two main industries in the wizarding world that used runes on a daily basis. Warders often worked on large stones, etching deep, powerful runes that would protect large properties. Enchanters, however, carved small, delicate runes for permanent enchantments in small objects, such as brooms. Hermione had use for both sets of tools, apparently.

The next four nights involved much use of the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map. They waited until after curfew each night, levitating large, heavy slabs of marble from the depths of the Chamber and running all the way up to the seventh floor to the Room of Requirement, often taking detours to avoid Filch, Mrs. Norris, professors, and prefects that were patrolling the halls. After that, they spent a few hours each night carving the runes into the slabs. They decided to sleep in the room itself, partly because they didn't want to risk an extra trip through five floors of the school, and partly because they were too tired each night. Setting an alarm early in the morning just before sunrise, they got up just before sunrise to transport the completed slabs back down to the chamber. There were almost no patrols at all that early in the day, so the trips back were much easier. Finally, they would sneak back into Gryffindor Tower and crawl into their beds for an extra hour or of sleep.

On the night they carved the final runes, they decided to forego sleep to activate the new beacon as soon as possible. They laid everything out, checking every rune, every rune phrase, and every cluster to make sure they were carved and placed correctly. Satisfied, they activated the runes, and a dull, pulsing glow began to emanate from the runes. It was charging up much more slowly than the original one, so they decided to sit down against a wall and rest. The rhythmic glowing from the runes in front of them was very calming, and they soon fell asleep beside each other.

Several hours later, with the runes fully charged, they flashed brightly and disappeared. During the course of their nap, they had shifted from their sitting positions. Harry had tipped over in his sleep and ended up using Hermione's lap as a pillow, while Hermione's head was drooping down over his, only a centimetre away from bumping into each other. Harry reacted to the flash of light first, waking up with a start and jerking his head up. This, unfortunately, caused him to smack his mouth straight against Hermione's, rather painfully. Harry rolled away, clutching his mouth while Hermione jerked up, quickly coming to full alertness. They looked at each other, realizing what happened. In a flash, there was a ten-foot gap between them.

_Oh, flaming Morgana's underpants, what the hell just happened?_ Hermione swore in her mind. _That hurts!_ She touched her lips, which were still feeling sore. _Did Harry just kiss me? Was that my first kiss? Does it even count as a first kiss? My god, that hurt! _She glared angrily at Harry. _That has got to be the worst first kiss in history! I mean, Harry's certainly brave... and noble... and the best friend I've ever had... but OW THAT HURTS. Is my lip bleeding? _Touching the inside of her lip, she realized that that yes, in fact, she was bleeding slightly. Her glare turned to an outright blazing flame that burned from her eyes straight into Harry's. He shrunk back, looking extremely fearful. _No, _Hermione continued. _I refuse to accept that. That doesn't count. It wasn't a kiss at all. He'd better give me a proper one to make up for it... _Hermione's heart fluttered at the image of a proper, tender, passionate, and **real first kiss** from Harry. _Wait, what am I thinking? Kissing Harry? Oh no, stop, stop, stop!_ She turned bright red in embarrassment.

Harry, on the other hand, was completely confused. _I hope I didn't bump into Hermione too hard_, he thought. _I'd better check to see if she's hurt._ Just as he was about to make a move towards her, however, she glared at him. _Oh god, she's mad at me. I DID hurt her! I need to apologize to her... and quickly... but she seems so angry right now... well, I'd better do it before she gets angrier._ Firming up his resolve, he was just about to open his mouth, when Hermione touched her lip, noticing blood. Her glare intensified tenfold, and Harry suddenly lost all his nerve again. He backed away and huddled behind his own knees, only daring to take quick peeks at Hermione. _She's bleeding! I really did hurt her! I can't believe I was so stupid. She looks like she's about to kill me! Maybe I can grovel in front of her and she'll make it quick..._ All of a sudden, Hermione's face was flush with embarrassment and she seemed to be avoiding Harry's gaze. _What just happened? Why's she avoiding me now? Damn girls are always so confusing... _

He cautiously crept up to Hermione, and in the most sincere voice he could manage, said "I'm sorry I bumped into you, Hermione. Are you hurt?"

Hermione appeared to take several calming breaths before answering. "Yes, I'm fine, Harry." She then muttered quietly to herself, "Oh good... he said 'bumped'... he doesn't consider it a kiss, either."

Unfortunately for her, she didn't say it quietly enough. Harry managed to catch the last few words... _Kiss? I thought I just hit her mouth... with my own... oh god, does that qualify for a kiss?_ Harry gaped. _I've never kissed anyone before... wait, has Hermione? I doubt it._

"Err... Hermione... was... was that your... um... first kiss?" Harry asked meekly.

"NO!" she shouted vehemently. "No no no no no no no. That wasn't a kiss! That doesn't count. You didn't kiss me, Harry. That was not my first kiss. Definitely not. It was just a bump."

Harry quickly backed down again. "Alright Hermione. That... was just a bump. Right."

They stared at each other in silence, unsure of what to say next. Turning to where the marble slabs used to be, he said, "So... I guess the new beacon works now, doesn't it? Why didn't we get a flood of memories like last time?"

Hermione, eager to change the subject, quickly explained. "The clusters we added make sure we actually get to _experience_ each trip through time, and remember them in the right order. I didn't realize that would be a problem with the original design. It'll make things much easier to remember and organize, too."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I guess that makes more sense. I just hoped there would be an easier way to check to see if it was working properly or not."

Hermione replied. "Well, we can always create the 'return' cluster with the leftover sandstone I have in my bag... it won't do very long distance travel, but we could just carve them up in a few hours and come back. My future self was nice enough to pack the memory of it so that it came through clearly." She smiled. "Well, let's make sure we know what time it is, so that we know we came back to the right beacon. _Calentempa_." The date and time floated in front of her. 1994, June 30th, 8:51 AM.

Hermione's eyes bugged out. "Harry! We have to be on the carriages to Hogsmeade in less than an hour, or else we'll miss the train! Have you packed yet?"

"No I haven't, Hermione! I've been with you every night, remember? We haven't had time to pack!"

Rushing out of the chamber and back into Gryffindor Tower, Harry began to open up his dresser and stuffed everything he had into his trunk. The room was nearly empty, as everyone else was probably in the Great Hall eating breakfast already. Oddly, he noticed that Ron was still asleep, and hadn't bothered to pack last night. He shook Ron to wake him.

"Whuzzat? Gerroff, that's not chocolate..." he muttered, still asleep and presumably dreaming.

"Ron! Wake up! Haven't you packed yet?" Harry shouted at his friend.

Ron opened his eyes lazily. "Huh? Harry? There's still time, you know... no rush..."

"Ron, it's past nine o'clock. We have to be on the carriages by nine-thirty, or else we'll miss the train. Everyone else is already gone."

"Won' take too long..." Ron said, rolling over in his bed.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "Alright, Ron, whatever you say. But I'm not saving any breakfast for you if you're late." Ron slowly started to get up, stretching and yawning lazily. Since his friend was acting mostly awake, Harry went back to his trunk to begin stuffing all the clothes, textbooks, and school supplies into it haphazardly. He did take care to place the Maruader's Map and invisibility cloak carefully, however. He was finished in fifteen minutes, and levitated the trunk out of the room downstairs. It took Hermione five minutes to catch up to him. She grinned at him as they stepped out of the portrait-hole. "Let's catch up to Ron downstairs, Harry."

Harry chuckled. "He'll have to catch up to us, actually. I had to wake him up when I got upstairs. Last I checked, he was still packing."

Hermione let out a very unladylike snort. "Ugh, I should have guessed. Well, I'm not waiting for him. We still have a few minutes left to grab a quick bite from the Great Hall. Let's go."

* * *

Harry and Hermione just rounded the corner to the carriages when they both stopped. Standing before them were no longer the horseless carriages they remembered, but ones that were being pulled by dark, winged horses. They looked thin, almost skeletal, and at the same time not quite solid- they seemed to shimmer and shift as if they were only a little more than frozen smoke. "Hermione, are you seeing what's in front of the carriages?" whispered Harry.

Hermione nodded, but also took note that Neville didn't seem to see anything odd at all. "I don't think anyone else can see them, though. Maybe we should just keep quiet about it for now. I'll look them up next time I can go to the library."

Getting on the carriage with Neville when they spotted Ron, dragging his old trunk behind him as fast as he could. Hermione was watching with an amused look on her face. "Shame he doesn't remember his first year charms," she said quietly.

"Hey guys!" huffed Ron, breathing heavily. "Why... didn't you wait... for me?"

"We didn't want to be late for the train, Ron." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"And we did need to get a bite to eat before we left," Harry added.

"I did wake you," Neville said. "You waved me off, saying you'd be ready in time, so I left."

Harry looked at Neville. "Really? You tried to wake him too? He was still asleep when I got back to the room to pack my trunk."

All three of them turned to glare at Ron, who shuffled in his seat uncomfortably. He quietly muttered, "Well... you guys could have helped me with the trunk, at least..."

Hermione replied dryly, "Don't tell me you've forgotten how to cast _Wingardium Leviosa_ already, Ron."

Ron looked sheepish, but declined to comment. When it was clear he had nothing more to say, Neville spoke up. "Where were you this morning, Harry? I thought you packed early because you were already out of bed, but you weren't at breakfast with everyone else this morning."

Harry gasped quietly when he realized what he almost let slip. Looking at Hermione, he decided to go with what had become his standard excuse. "I was getting some last minute notes on Runes from Hermione. I probably won't see her again for a month, and she's been helping me catch up with third year runes so I can switch over to the course next year."

Neville was amazed. "Wow, that's impressive, Harry. I have to admit, Runes is pretty useful, even though it's such a tough course that I'd never take it myself. What course are you dropping?"

Ron answered for Harry. "Divination. I still think he's barmy for doing that. You can practically guarantee yourself an A on the OWL just by making things up. Why would you throw away such an easy chance at an OWL, I don't know."

"Passing all your tests isn't the point of school, Ron!" Harry and Neville were rather surprised that it was Hermione who said that.

"Oh yeah? I never thought I'd hear that coming from you, Miss Know-It-All!" Ron shouted back.

"Ron, don't you dare talk like that to Hermione! She's your friend!" Harry rushed to Hermione's defense. "Yeah, she gets good grades, but more importantly, all the things she knows are actually _useful_!" He said that with a knowing smile, looking at Hermione.

The carriages had arrived at the Hogsmeade station, and they made their way onto the train in silence. They made their way into a cabin, whereupon Hermione immediately began removing some blank sandstones from her trunk, as well as a few notes and carving tools. Neville looked interested at the sight, while Ron just goggled. "We should get started right away, Harry. This should take us a few hours, and the train ride should be the perfect amount of time for us to finish it."

Ron looked at Harry, and said, "Wait, you're serious, mate? You're actually doing runes?"

Harry looked at Ron in disbelief. "Err... yeah, Ron. I've told you a dozen times this past week."

"But... don't you see how crazy that is? I've been trying to convince you not to! You'll fail the course!"

Harry felt that this was the last straw. "Convince me? You just called me barmy every time I told you. That's your idea of convincing me not to take the course? Look, if you can't accept the fact that I'll be taking Runes, don't ask again, because I'm not changing my answer. Hermione and I will be practicing the entire train trip back, because it's the last time she can help me before summer vacation."

Ron turned to Harry, then Hermione, then back again. Shaking his head and muttering, he left the cabin. Neville, who had backed away from the trio during the spat, spoke up. "You guys don't mind if I stay, do you?"

Hermione gave him a warm smile, saying, "Of course not, Neville. I mean, we won't be very talkative, but we certainly don't mind if you watch."

They settled down into their seats, and Hermione began instructing Harry on how to use the tools and carve the runes. She got set, carving all the most intricate runes while Harry took the simplest ones, which were mostly made up of straight lines. Neville watched with rapt attention, but he was too shy to interrupt their work. About three hours later, just past the midway point in the train ride, they were finally done. Seeing that they were finished, Neville finally spoke up. "So... could you tell me what all this stuff means? It looks awfully confusing."

Harry thought for a moment. "Um... it is pretty confusing, actually. But I'm sorry, Neville. If it doesn't work, we can't explain it to you. If it does work... well, we won't be able to explain it to you."

Picking up one set of runes, which were arranged and merged into one large cluster, he held it against his chest. Hermione did the same. Both of them brought out their wands, holding them against the cluster of runes, and murmured the activation sequence. The runes glowed as Harry and Hermione forced more and more magic into their runes, until it ended with a sudden flash.

* * *

Harry suddenly found himself laying down instead of sitting, and jerked his head upwards in disorientation. His mouth smacked into Hermione's. Hermione woke immediately, once again clutching her mouth.

_Sweet Morgana, did he have to do that to me again?_ thought Hermione, as she looked at her fingers. _Yep, my lip's bleeding again. The nerve of him! Couldn't he just wake me up properly?_

_Oh nuts to Merlin, not again, _Harry was thinking. _I have got to stop myself from doing that... is her lip bleeding again? I hope she'll forgive me... I really think I'll need to grovel this time._

"That one still doesn't count!" blurted Hermione.

"Uh... it's okay, Hermione. I don't count that one, either," Harry answered awkwardly.

"Good!" she huffed in reply. _Wait, why am I so mad about this? It didn't mean anything to either of us... I think..._

_She's still mad... this isn't good. Maybe she was expecting something from me? _pondered Harry. D_id she actually __**want**_ _me to kiss her? Is that why she's so angry, since I seem to keep delivering such bad kisses? Wait, they don't count as kisses, she said so herself... ugh, I'll never understand her!_

"So... you remember the last time then? When we... uh... did... what we just did..." Harry was far too embarrassed to say it clearly.

"Of course I remember! Why wouldn't I remember you doing that to... Oh!" Hermione's eyes lit up in realization. "_Calentempa!_" The time-and-date spell showed 1994, June 30th, 8:43 AM. "Yes!" She jumped up and down in glee. It worked! The beacon worked! And we remember our past experiences too! It's working exactly how it's supposed to! Oh, this is so amazing, Harry!" She leapt towards him and gave him a bone-crushing hug.

"Er... Hermione... you're forgetting something..." Harry wheezed out.

"What? Oh, of course. The new design was also supposed to increase the range output of the beacon, wasn't it? Well, we can't really test that unless we wait for another few years, but..." Hermione began one of her information-spilling rants.

"No, Hermione... I mean, this still means we have less than an hour to pack, eat breakfast, and head down to the carriages."

Hermione's looked at him for only a second before dashing straight for the entrance of the chamber. "Harry! Hurry up and open the door for me!" she shouted impatiently. Harry grinned as he caught up to her, whispering the parseltongue password.

* * *

After arriving in Gryffindor Tower again, he decided to be a bit nicer to Ron. Well, relatively nicer, at least. Seeing him completely asleep, Harry didn't bother wasting his time trying to wake him. "_Aguamenti."_ The water splashed straight onto Ron's face, waking him instantly. He flailed around in bed before falling off. Getting up and seeing Harry, he sputtered, "Bloody hell, mate! What did you do that for?"

Harry simply replied, "I did it to wake you up, Ron. If you spent a single minute more asleep you wouldn't have time for breakfast. Now get packing, we've only got a little more than half an hour before we have to get on the carriages." He quickly started packing, ignoring Ron's protests. Seeing as how there was no possibility of taking another nap now that he and his bed were both drenched, Ron grudgingly changed out of his wet pyjamas and began packing his trunk.

Harry met Hermione in the common room, a solid ten minutes earlier than their first time around. Hermione actually arrived before he did, and watched him descend the stairs. "So, Harry, shall we go to breakfast?"

"Err... let's wait for Ron, actually. I made him get up this time, and I'd like to give him a second chance this time around." Harry watched the boys' dorm stairs hopefully. Five minutes later there were sounds of _thunk-thunk-thunk_ along with quiet swearing. Harry shouted up the stairs, "You know you could just levitate the trunk, Ron." There was a pause, and while the muffled cursing continued, there were no more thunking noises to be heard. Ron appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, Hermione quickly levitated her trunk and began walking out of the common room. "Hurry up, Ron, we've only got about fifteen minutes to catch some breakfast before we have to find a carriage."

* * *

They arrived at the carriages a few minutes later than last time, but they still managed to find an empty one. They still saw the dark, winged horses there to pull them. Hermione slapped her forehead, saying, "I forgot about them! I should have stopped by the library!"

Harry replied, "What are you saying? We only just had enough time to get breakfast. There's no way you could have looked it up, no matter how fast you can read, Hermione." This time, however, they noticed in the carriage in front of them was a young blonde girl, leaning over the front and petting one of the horses. "Well, at least we know they're not imaginary. That girl seems to be able to see them, too."

"And it looks the others can't... I wonder why?" The three other passengers of the carriage seemed to be avoiding her, only giving her strange looks and continuing their own conversations.

Once again, they found themselves riding the carriage to Hogsmeade with Neville. Having enough time to eat a proper breakfast seemed to improve everyone's mood, including Ron. Despite most people having already finished their breakfast, Ron practically cleared everything remaining on the table in the last fifteen minutes before everyone was shooed out of the Great Hall. A full Ron, apparently, was a mellow Ron.

Neville ended up asking the same question as last time. "Where were you this morning, Harry? You weren't in bed, but I didn't see you at breakfast, either."

_I wonder if Ron's going to be the same as last time, _thought Harry. _Well, I'm giving him a second chance and let him have breakfast, too. Let's see how he takes it this time._ Quickly glancing at Hermione before answering, he replied, "I was studying Runes with Hermione, since we won't be seeing each other very much over the summer. Divination's useless, so I'm dropping it in favour of Runes."

"Wow, that's pretty tough," said Neville. "I have to agree that it is pretty useless, though. My Gran never spoke highly of it. Maybe I should have taken Muggle Studies instead."

"Oh, don't bother with it. I have a hard time deciding which is more useless, Muggle Studies or Divination," said Hermione. She was glad to steer the conversation away from Runes as quickly as possible, to avoid another spat with Ron and another fifteen minute carriage ride sitting awkwardly to avoid eye contact with him.

"But that's only because you're muggleborn, Hermione!" said Ron. "Wizards don't know a thing about muggles!"

"And they still won't know a thing even after taking the course. All the stuff they have is at least fifty years out of date," said Hermione. "And that's just the technology. Let's not even talk about muggle fashion. That seems to change every decade or so. Your best bet for knowing what's going on in the muggle world is to get to know some muggles."

The rest of the carriage ride consisted of Hermione passionately explaining the great advances in human rights and equality that were made in the muggle world to Neville and Ron.

Entering the cabin on the Hogwarts Express, Hermione whispered to Harry, "I think we should make the Return Clusters again. Just in case of an emergency, you know? It could be a handy method of escape, especially since we can't apparate."

Harry nodded. "Is that what we're calling them now? I agree, in any case. How should we deal with Ron?"

"Well, if he handles it better this time around, I'm willing to forgive him, but I'm not going out of my way to stop him from opening that reckless mouth of his," Hermione said firmly, and brought out the blank sandstones once again.

"Wow, you two. You really are studying up to the last minute, aren't you?" Neville asked, surprised.

"What's with you two? It's summer vacation! You should be celebrating, not working!" Ron shouted.

"My summer 'vacations' _are_ work," growled Harry. "I'd take studying with Hermione over the Dursleys any day. In fact, I _love_ studying with Hermione. She always knows how to explain things to help me understand. " His expression softened, as he looked into Hermione's eyes with a sense of understanding, "...And she _loves_ teaching me. You've never noticed how happy she becomes whenever she has the chance to share her knowledge with someone. I don't think I've appreciated her enough. I'm sorry, Hermione, for not noticing before. I could even give up Quidditch for you, Hermione."

Hermione was watching Harry with rapt attention as he made his little impromptu speech, with absolute joy filling her face as he finished. She was just about to say something in return when Ron shouted out loud, "WHAT? Give up Quidditch? For a girl? There's no way you could do that. Quidditch is the greatest game in the world! In fact, the next World Cup is going to be held here in Britain! You should come over to the Burrow and listen to the game on the Wireless, you'll never think about dumping Quidditch again!"

Harry only nodded as he and Hermione began to work on their set of runes. Ron turned to Neville to satisfy his Quidditch fever for the next few hours. Just as they finished, the tiniest owl they had ever seen came flying in the window, with a letter from Sirius. The excitement of the last two weeks made Harry nearly forget about his new godfather, but now he had written a letter stating that he was doing fine (for an escaped prisoner), that the Firebolt Harry received was a present from him, and for Ron to keep the owl. Ron was quite excited to have his own owl, especially after losing his "pet" rat.

As they arrived at the station, Harry gave Hermione a long goodbye hug before the Dursleys started to scream at him to get in the car. Waving goodbye from the window, he realized it was going to be one of the longest summers ever.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- revising for this chapter's done. Not much changed, just added some thestral-vision.


	5. Communication

**Author's Notes: **HP is all JKR's

- I was trying to incorporate some of the important canon events in, but I ended up modifying them anyways. I may have skipped over some scenes that I felt didn't need changing from the original GoF.

* * *

**Chapter 5**:** Communication**

Two days. It had only been two days since arriving home that Harry felt the urge to write a letter. He didn't have anything in particular to talk about, but there were enough interesting developments at home that he managed to eke out a short letter to Hermione.

_Dear Hermione,_

_ I know this is pretty quick, but I just wanted you to know how things are at my home. The Dursleys are actually a little nicer to be these days. By "nicer" I mean they all seem to be too miserable to bother me as much as they used to. For once, we're all eating the same amount of food! No, they'd never dare to give me a proper meal, but apparently somebody has noticed that Dudley has difficulty seeing his toes, and forget about touching them. The school nurse said he needed to eat less and move more. When uncle Vernon went to school to complain about it and demanded to see a doctor, they brought one in and he said __**both**__ of them had to go on a diet! Now they constantly complain about not getting enough food, but they can't blame me for it, and Dudley's too tired to chase me around with his gang._

_ Besides the chores, I'm going to try studying. When I said I enjoyed studying with you on the train, Hermione, I meant it. I know the Dursleys would never stand to have you visit, but could you send me your notes and textbook for Ancient Runes? I'd like to learn as much as I can._

_-Harry_

The idea to learn more about runes came to him as he was writing the letter. He had seriously begun to appreciate the idea of not letting his time go to waste, and most of it was already being wasted doing chores for the Dursleys. He was glad Vernon had become too lethargic to stop him from sending letters with Hedwig, and she was a very clever owl who knew how to sneak out quietly for her deliveries. Tying the letter to his owl's leg, he whispered to her, "Stay with Hermione until she replies. Don't be afraid of asking for food, because you might be carrying a heavy load coming back." Hedwig hooted softly and took off.

Harry wasn't too surprised that the reply letter, along with textbooks and notes, arrived the next evening. Hedwig was obviously tired from carrying the huge load, and Harry had only managed to sneak a bit of sausage and a few owl treats for her to eat. Giving her a gentle pat, he said, "Thanks, girl. You did a great job. I'm sorry I couldn't save any more food for you. All this stuff must have been pretty hard for you to carry." Hedwig straightened up and gave him a haughty look. Harry chuckled at the sight, and reassured her, "Oh, no, Hedwig, I'm not doubting you at all. I just want to make sure you're well rested and fed." Hedwig nipped at him lightly with her beak, and after Harry untied all the packages from her leg, she flew out the window to do some night hunting.

Sorting through the stack of parchment Hermione had sent, he picked out the letter she had written him first, eager to read her reply.

_Dear Harry,_

_ I'm so glad you wrote to me! I haven't got an owl of my own, and I didn't realize until it was too late that I never knew your address or phone number, so there was no other way for me to contact you. I hope you keep writing often, and I'll keep a window open for Hedwig all summer!_

_ I haven't thanked you enough for everything you did on the train, including letting Ron try not being a git. Sure, he lets his mouth run loose and it really gets on my nerves, but I'm glad you managed to patch things up a bit the second time around. You two are my best friends, and I know I can't stand to lose one of you. Although I have to admit I'd miss you a lot more than I'd miss Ron, but don't tell him that! When you stood up for me in the train, I was just about ready to jump across the cabin and hug you, but then Ron interrupted again. Him and his Quidditch... although I think the World Cup is a pretty big deal, especially since it hasn't been hosted in Britain for decades. Would you really choose me over Quidditch? Not that I want you to, Harry, you look so happy when you're up in the air. I'd never want to take that from you._

_ Lastly, I can't believe you asked for my notes! If you can catch up, then we can have another class together next year! First, the textbook I gave you isn't the official third year Runes text, but I found it was a lot more useful when studying. My notes are organized by..._

The letter finished off with a lot of Hermione's studying tips and a guide to reading her notes, highlighting the most important pages of the textbook, and other advice to get him through all the course. Re-reading the letter, Harry smiled to himself. Hermione was really that happy when he said those things? He just said what had come naturally to him, but he was glad he had made her day before Ron interrupted.

That brought the thought of Ron back to him. He mentioned the Quidditch World Cup, didn't he? Maybe he could spend the last few weeks at the Burrow again. He decided to write a short letter to Ron, hoping it might help him get out of the house a bit earlier.

_Dear Ron,_

_ How are you doing, mate? You said there was the World Cup coming soon, didn't you? When is it happening? Do you think I could stay over at your place so we can listen to the game? I'm sure Hermione would love to come, too. Say hello to your mum and dad for me!_

_-Harry_

He decided to wait until Hedwig had returned and finished her meal, a small squirrel. For an animal without hands or utensils, Hedwig managed to be an extremely clean eater and left no traces for Vernon or Petunia to find. Seeing that his owl was sated, he asked her, "Hey, girl! Are you ready for a quick trip to the Burrow? You don't have to wait up for Ron, he has his own owl now." Hedwig immediately hopped towards him and proudly stuck out her leg.

* * *

Over the next month, Harry exchanged several more letters with both Ron and Hermione. With Hermione, he asked her for help with the homework whenever he got stuck, and she readily gave it, although those instances were rare. Most of the coursework was rather simple to Harry, and he was picking it up very quickly. Again, vague feelings of having taken the course before stirred in his mind as he studied, helping him pick it up as quickly as he did. They also discussed what they should do with the beacon and if they were going to keep trying to improve it for the OWL project- or, in fact, whether they should present it at all, or keep it a secret. Hermione had also discovered what the winged horses were- they only appeared to those who had faced death before. The reasoning was obvious for Harry, but Hermione must have experienced something horrific in her memories, even if neither of them completely remembered the future.

His letters to Ron remained pretty simple, as Ron could hardly contain his excitement about the World Cup, and had filled Harry in on some of the details. Bulgaria had one of the greatest rising stars of Quidditch, Viktor Krum, whose fantastic seeking skills nearly carried the team to the championships. Ireland was known for having extremely good teamwork, to the point where some people had accused them of cheating using mind-linking devices (all of which were false, of course). The two teams were expected to face off at the World Cup Finals.

His birthday came and went with no celebrations from the Dursleys, as he expected. It was still an extremely good day for him, however, because he received a few gifts and letters he received from his friends. He was worried that the extra owls would make the Dursleys angry, but apparently Hedwig had the foresight to fly around the neighbourhood and warn the other postal owls to only deliver during the night. He gave her a dozen owl treats for that. One of his greatest surprises was a letter from Sirius. His godfather had remembered his birthday! He happily opened up the letter first.

_Happy Birthday, Pup!_

_ I'm so thankful you gave me a chance back when we met in the Shrieking Shack. All I want is to see you grow up to be a proud, powerful wizard. I'm sorry I can't give you very much for your birthday, but here's some notes on how your father and I learned to become animagi. We started training in fourth year, and we managed to complete the transformation in fifth year. I hope my notes help, and I hope you'll take the Marauders into the next generation at Hogwarts._

_I'm out of the country for the moment, so I'm sorry to say that I can't see you for your birthday. I can't receive owls from you or else they might find me, and I'm already taking a small risk sending you this letter, but I just had to wish my godson a happy birthday._

_Love, Sirius_

Animagus training! He felt a little dejected that, although Sirius was out of prison, he still wouldn't be able to contact him. Sirius, however, still managed to give him the perfect gift- he could learn a useful skill, and it felt like connecting to his father in a roundabout way. Putting the notes aside, he opened up the package from Hermione next.

_Dear Harry,_

_ Happy Birthday! You've made so much progress with Runes, I'm so proud of you! I decided to get you a basic rune-carver's kit, which should last you until we graduate from Hogwarts. I also got you the book, __Cracked: The Craziest Curse Breakers__, which has stories on some of the most intricate wards ever found and the people who managed to break through them. I wish I could present these to you properly at a birthday party, but maybe we can have a belated party when we get to the Burrow._

_ Speaking of the Weasleys, you know that we still haven't had any revenge on Fred and George for their betting pool? I still can't believe them! We really need to prank them back, and I have the perfect idea..._

Harry had completely forgotten about the twins. He grinned at the thought of Hermione putting her mind to getting revenge on the twins, at their own game, and at their own house! She really didn't do anything by half-measures. Ron's letter was short and to the point, as usual.

_ Happy Birthday Harry! We're all set to see you next week at the Burrow, and Hermione too! I got you __Quidditch Scores and Statistics__ so you'll know more about what's going on when we listen to the game!_

Harry opened the book and saw that it was, quite literally, a book on the statistics of all the professional Quidditch teams in Europe, as well as records of their matchups and scores for the past several years. He was already pretty shocked at the fact that Ron had sent him a book as a gift, but was almost completely floored by the fact that the book Ron had sent him was more boring than Hermione's gift. He set the book down and picked up the curse-breaker book instead, immediately fascinated by the multitude of runes and schemes that some ancient pharaoh or dark wizard had set up to protect their earthly possessions. He was reading well past midnight before he finally fell asleep.

* * *

Harry Potter found himself sitting... no, cradled... in a large chair. He noted it was in an old, dilapidated, but formerly exquisite house, if the elaborate door was anything to go by. Looking down, he saw his own body, which was small, wrinkled, and deformed. Oddly enough, he wasn't shocked at the sight. He was feeling anticipation... _Wait, _thought Harry. _That's not me... that's someone else feeling it..._ Realizing the emotions were not his own, he instinctively threw up his Occlumency shields. It dulled the images around him slightly, but he could now clearly tell what was happening. It was obvious to him that he wasn't dreaming- he was inside somebody else's mind.

"I-It is done, my lord." A quivering voice came from behind the chair. The chair swung around, and the speaker came into view. Harry saw who it was- Peter Pettigrew! He was angry, frustrated, and desperate to know where he was, where Pettigrew was. Oddly enough, he noticed some satisfaction coming from whoever he was inhabiting.

"Excellent, Wormtail. Now where is Nagini?"

_~I am here, my lord.~_ came the whisper from an extremely large snake.

_~Dear Nagini, you will place yourself at the center of the binding formation. You shall be the next vessel of my immortality.~_ Harry was surprised that the person he was viewing was speaking in Parseltongue. Wasn't it an extremely rare skill? Back in second year, half the school was suspicious he was the next Dark Lord just because he had the ability. The only other person he knew of with the skill was... Voldemort. Of course. Peter Pettigrew had run back to his old master, Lord Voldemort, and now Harry was seeing inside his head. They were performing some kind of ritual, with chalk outlines drawn across the floor in front of the fireplace, and some potions brewing off to the side.

_~Master, there is a muggle standing just outside the room. You could complete the ritual immediately with him, could you not?~_ suggested the snake.

_ ~An excellent idea, Nagini~_ replied Voldemort. Turning to Peter, he said, "Wormtail! Nagini tells me there is an old muggle listening to us just outside this room. Would you care to invite him to join us?"

Peter quickly left the room, and Harry heard the door behind him quickly open, and two sets of footsteps came marching inside.

"I don't know who you are, but I know enough that you're a murderer!" shouted the man defiantly. "I'm calling the police- and don't you dare touch me, because my wife knows I check this house every night, and she'll call the police as well if I'm not back home soon."

"Do not lie to _me_, muggle," said Voldemort. "Lord Voldemort always knows when you are lying. You live alone. Nobody will miss you."

"What did you call me?" asked the old man, refusing to let his fear get the better of him.

"A muggle. That is what you are, as I am a wizard. And you will address me as _Lord Voldemort_."

"Well, pardon me, my _Lord_. I've never met any wizard before in my life, nor have I ever met any _Lords_ who break into another noble's manor to spend the night. This here is Baron Riddle's old home. Why don't you turn and face me like a man? A coward like you doesn't belong in the Riddle Manor!"

Harry could feel a geyser of rage ready to burst from Voldemort. He had far too much pride to let that comment slide. "Very well," Voldemort replied. "I will face you, but I will tell you that I am no coward, nor am I a man. I am becoming something far greater, and you will have the honour of dying to serve my greatness." The chair swivelled around, and now Harry could see who had been talking. It was an elderly man with an intense, battle-worn expression on his face. It seemed he was never one to back down against evil, and he certainly wouldn't be backing down now. His expression grew horrified when he saw Voldemort's body.

"_Avada Kedavra_"

* * *

Harry woke up with his scar throbbing. _Voldemort was back!_ he thought. Keeping his Occlumency up, he tried to remember and organize as much as he could. Recalling an earlier memory, or a message, he stopped in confusion. _Didn't I tell myself that Voldemort only came back in at the end of fourth year? _Pulling the memory back out of its encapsulated shell, he searched through it again. _Right, just now I saw him as that mutilated baby thing. At the end of fourth year he gets his full body, and his full power, back. This is where it begins. I have to tell Hermione, and Dumbledore as well._

Quickly grabbing a quill and parchment, he wrote two letters.

_Dear Hermione_

_ I just had some kind of vision from Voldemort. He was with Wormtail! They were working together. Voldemort doesn't have a proper body yet, but he still had enough power to kill a muggle. He's planning on returning to power soon. We should talk about this as soon as we see each other in person._

_Take care of yourself._

_Harry_

He rolled up the first letter and quickly began to write the second.

_Professor Dumbledore_

_ While I was asleep, I had some kind of vision involving Voldemort. I was seeing things from his perspective, and he was performing some kind of ritual and killed a muggle. I'm pretty sure it wasn't a dream, but I'm not sure how or why it happened._

_Harry Potter_

Tying the two letters to Hedwig's leg, he said "Deliver these quickly. Deliver the one to Dumbledore first, then hang around with Hermione after you deliver hers." Hedwig nodded in understanding and flew out the window.

He received the reply from Hermione right away, just before dawn. Did he wake her in the middle of the night? He'd have to apologize later for disturbing her sleep.

_Dear Harry_

_ This is incredibly important. I've thought about it for a bit, and a few things came to mind. First, you must have experienced this the last several trips back. I don't think we could have changed the timeline enough to stop Voldemort and Wormtail from working together. Secondly, neither of us bothered to send that memory back- I think we both felt it wasn't very important. The real key is the actual resurrection at the end of fourth year- we need to work to prevent that. I doubt Voldemort is causing many problems between now and then, if he's still stuck in that body until the ritual actually occurs._

_ I think this means we need to spend this year preparing, Harry. There's a few things I'd like to try out when we get back to school. I'll need access to the Room of Requirement to do it. We definitely need to discuss this when we meet at the Burrow._

_I'll be waiting for you - Hermione_

The reply from Dumbledore was succinct, and it arrived in the afternoon on the leg of a regular school owl.

_Dear Harry Potter_

_ Do not worry yourself over the visions. If any more occur this summer, take note of them, but do not fret. We can discuss them at the beginning of the school term._

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Harry sighed. He was hoping for some more insight or advice from Dumbledore, but all he said was essentially to wait until school starts. Did Dumbledore really sign all his letters with his full name? That looked like quite a hassle. Harry crumpled up the letter, throwing it in the trash. As he did so, he noticed another owl in the distance heading towards his window. Who was that from? As it came closer, he recognized the only owl he knew that would be barely bigger than the letter it was carrying. Pigwidgeon, Ron's tiny owl. Why would Ron be sending him letter now? They had already agreed to meet at the Burrow in a few days' time.

The little owl plopped onto his bed, hopping up to Harry excitedly. He reached out for the letter but the tiny owl kept ramming itself excitedly against his hands. "Stop it, Pig! You need to hold still for me to get this letter, you know!" Hedwig hooted in agreement, looking down at the tiny owl in distain. That seemed to get Pig to calm down enough so that Harry could retrieve the letter. It was certainly Ron's writing, all right, but even messier than before.

_Harry! Get this, we just hit the jackpot! Dad got us tickets to the quidditch final! We won't have to listen to the game on the wireless, we can actually be there! I couldn't wait to tell you! I'll see you in a few days!_

So that's what got Ron so excited. Harry had never watched a professional match before, so this would be quite interesting for him. He couldn't wait for the day to come, either.

* * *

One week later, came out of the fireplace at the Burrow on his back and covered in soot. "HARRY!" He heard a familiar shout as he sat up, and saw Hermione casting a quick dusting charm on him just before she launched herself at him, knocking him back down to the ground. He was so glad to see her again that he didn't resist her hug, but then quickly noticed everyone else watching.

"Um... Hermione... I think, uh, the Weasleys also want to say hello," Harry managed to whisper to her. Hermione, red-faced, backed away quickly. He got up and gave Ron a hug, waved to the twins and Ginny, and then turned to two unfamiliar Weasleys.

"You must be Harry Potter! Ron's told me so much about you. I'm Charlie." He held out his hand, which looked like it was capable of an iron grip. Harry gave him a firm handshake, but nearly winced at what Charlie considered "firm." He could feel the rough callouses and even noticed some scars all the way up his arm. Charlie noticed where Harry was looking, and said, "I'm a dragon handler. Rough work, but plenty of excitement."

Harry nodded. This was someone Hagrid could be good friends with. "Pleased to meet you," he said. He turned to the other new Weasley, and held out his hand. "I recognize you! You were in that book Hermione gave me for my birthday!" Harry smiled. "Bill Weasley, curse-breaker, right?"

Bill laughed. "And what book might this be?" Harry grabbed the book out of his trunk and handed it to him. Bill flipped through the pages until he found the article where he was mentioned. Reading the whole thing with a grin on his face, he chuckled as he gave the book back to Harry. "Oh, I remember that job. It actually wasn't anything complex and we had a perfect plan to take it all down, but one of the rookies on the team reversed two of the steps. The wards were supposed to drop quietly, but instead we got the most fantastic light show in the middle of the night, and woke up half the village. So, what's got you interested in curse-breaking?"

Harry grinned at Hermione, and they started to get to know the oldest Weasley brothers. Both of them were very glad to know that Harry played for the house team, and Charlie especially, as he was the star seeker of Gryffindor before Harry took over the position. Pretty soon, the entire family was involved, looking to have an impromptu quidditch match. It was a smaller game, with only one beater, two chasers, and a keeper for each team. Arthur and Ron were the keepers, Fred and George were the beaters, and Charlie, Harry, Bill, and Ginny were the chasers. Molly didn't play and felt that it was rather improper for Ginny to play as well, but Charlie assured her that she would do fine in a pick-up game. Hermione was still afraid of flying a broom and decided to watch and keep score instead.

When they kicked off, Harry noticed Hermione smirking. He quickly found out why. Bill got the quaffle first, and Fred smacked the bludger towards him. Or at least, he tried. The bludger stuck to his beater's bat, and apparently he was unable to let go of it as well. Together, they flew towards Bill, who was surprised but managed to dodge around them. Ginny was right behind him, and George quickly smacked the Fred-Bludger combo away from his sister- and realized he was stuck to it as well. Stuck together and facing opposite directions, they kept spinning in spirals for several minutes until they managed to land on the ground in a heap. Everyone else couldn't stop laughing when they realized that the twins themselves had been pranked.

Hermione walked up to them, smiling sweetly, and said "That was for taking bets on Harry's love life at school. I hope you'll be more... considerate... in the future?" The twins nodded, so she cancelled the charm.

"We do believe"

"We've found ourselves"

"A new Hogwarts prankster!" The twins grinned at each other.

"Although, we did notice"

"You pranked us for taking bets"

"Not that we bet on the wrong results." Before Hermione could respond, they took off again, laughing.

The second game lasted an hour. Ginny surprised everyone with her skill as chaser, as she had never played with her family before. They were expecting Bill to do most of the work for that team, but apparently she was nearly as talented as her oldest brother, and they ended up quickly racking up points against Charlie and Harry. After an hour, they lead by 150 points, calling the game to an end.

At this point, Charlie, Bill, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were all interested in seeing how the former seekers would do against the current one. They proposed a seeker duel, Harry versus Charlie, on the family brooms so that they would be equally matched. Harry agreed, eager to test his skills. The seeker duel was simply a one-on-one race to catch the snitch between two seekers. They decided to go with the best of three rounds.

In the first round, the snitch moved towards Charlie first. Both of them raced towards it and it looked like Charlie was about to get an easy win, but it quickly changed direction and dropped straight down towards the ground. Charlie spun upside down in an attempt to grab it, but missed. Harry rocketed towards the ground, looking to intercept the snitch but it jerked to the right, forcing Harry to quickly brake and change direction. Charlie was now dropping straight down towards him, and the snitch headed towards the ground once again. Seeing how close to the grass the snitch hovered, Charlie had to pull back and slow down to avoid crashing, but Harry, already much closer to the snitch, accelerated and landed hard on the ground on all fours, trapping the golden, fluttering ball under his fingers. The entire round lasted little over a minute.

In the second round, the snitch moved too quickly to see and disappeared. Harry and Charlie slowly patrolled the field, looking for a flash of yellow. Charlie saw it first, and immediately shot towards the snitch. Harry followed, but was trailing by several body lengths. They dove and swerved through the air chasing it, and Charlie never let his eyes away. Harry, being much smaller, was gaining on Charlie. They were neck and neck, both straining to grab the snitch on a high-speed straightaway when Charlie grinned, and threw himself forward. His much longer reach let him grab the snitch while it was still a foot ahead of Harry's fingers. Amazingly, Charlie managed to keep his other hand firmly gripping the broom, pulling himself back on with one arm before gently riding back down to the ground. Grinning, he said, "When you've reined in a few dragons yourself, jumping off a broom isn't all that scary any more." Molly, watching from the ground, had nearly fainted.

In the third and final round, the snitch seemed to be getting sneakier. After several short chases, where it kept disappearing into the grass, it reappeared directly in between them. Racing towards each other head-on, the snitch bobbed up and down and they could only guess where it would be the moment they came close enough to grab it. Charlie decided to go high, and Harry, apparently, mirrored his movements. They seemed to be playing a game of chicken when, at the last second, Harry copied the move Charlie made in the first round, spinning around and flying upside down, grabbing the snitch as it bobbed downwards again while very nearly clipping Charlie's feet with his own.

Everyone cheered for the fantastic display of skill the two seekers had shown them, as they headed back inside to get cleaned up and prepare for dinner. The duel was the talk of dinner, as Harry learned there were official names for some of the moves they had performed. He had never realized there was so much terminology to the game he played so often.

After dinner, Harry strode out to the field behind the Burrow where they had played Quidditch, relaxing and enjoying the fresh summer air. Hermione walked up beside him with a smile, and said, "I was really amazed at how well you fly, Harry."

"Thanks, Hermione," he said. "You played a pretty amazing prank on the twins, too. I think they learned their lesson."

"Do you think... you could teach me to fly?"

Harry was taken aback, but delighted, by the question. He never expected Hermione to start becoming more interested in flying. "Sure, Hermione. I'd be glad to, especially since your notes helped me learn all about Runes this summer."

"Oh, thank you, Harry! I always felt the school brooms were so rickety, and I was always scared of going very fast, but you look so _happy_ when you fly, that I thought I should give it another try, too. I think the Weasleys' brooms are in much better condition than the school ones, so since I was here, maybe I could practice with them. Can you give me some notes on broom riding? And what kind of exercises you do for Quidditch warm-ups? I could also read some books on broom-flying techniques, but if I had some of your notes I think that would..."

Harry couldn't keep the amusement to himself. "Err... Hermione... I don't have any notes. I just... fly the broom."

Hermione stopped, and her face fell. "But... how will I learn about it? Oh, I was hoping I'd be able to learn from you..."

Harry chuckled. "Hermione, you just have to get on a broom and fly it. I'll teach you. I promise. In fact, let me get my Firebolt right now, and we can ride it together." He ran inside to get his broom before Hermione could stop him, and minutes later came rushing out with his high-end, professional broom.

"Harry! I can't fly that thing! It's a professional broom! It's fast! It was a gift from Sirius! You've only had it for half a year! I have to study first before I try flying!" Hermione was panicking.

"Hermione! Calm down," said Harry. "I'll ride the broom with you, so don't worry. Flying is something you have to learn by experience, so we'll start our lessons right now." He grinned, moving behind her. "Here, just step over it. I want you to grip the handle..."

Hermione held the broom nervously and inhaled sharply as Harry wrapped his arms around her, gripping the broom just behind her hands. They began to rise slowly, hovering a few feet above the ground. Harry pushed the broom forward slightly, and they began to move forward. They glided slowly, between a walk and a run, until Hermione got used to speeding up and slowing down. When it came to practicing changing altitude or turns, Hermione was too nervous to lean over, causing the broom to move jerkily when they tried to change direction. The jerky motion only caused her to tense up even more, so Harry attempted a different approach. Pulling her in closer and holding her across her stomach with one hand, he said, "Alright, Hermione. Just close your eyes, relax, and forget the broom. Just hold on to me, and I'll fly."

Hermione was hesitant, but trusted him. She held on to his arm, closed her eyes, and leaned backwards, pressing against him. Harry began by pulling back, angling upwards and rising into the air, reassuring Hermione as she rested against his body. He began a few wide, lazy turns while gently leaning to each side, forcing Hermione to rock back and forth as they performed a slow slalom. Eventually, they slowed to a stop and Harry said, "Open your eyes, Hermione."

She nearly shrieked, seeing how high they were, but noticed their feet were dangling just above the roof of the Burrow. In front of them was a beautiful sunset that took her breath away. Harry smiled. "I think this is one of the reasons why I love flying so much. You can get such a fantastic view."

Hermione wanted to turn around and hug him right then and there, but was too afraid of falling off the broom to do it. They watched the sunset for the next half hour until it dipped just below the horizon.


	6. The World Cup

**Author's Notes: **HP is JR's.

- wheee! 6 for 6, i'm almost at a week of daily updates! I'll probably have to slow down soon though.

- oddly enough, the last two chapters I had originally planned as one short one, but as I was writing they sort of just expanded to the point of becoming two long chapters. I hope you enjoy it!

- i realized this chapter that i kinda suck at writing children's bedtime stories.

- 1.5k visitors! yay!

* * *

Chapter 6: The World Cup

Over the next few days, Ron and the other Weasleys were getting more and more excited. Mornings were spent listening to the Wizarding Wireless, covering the quarter- and semi-finals of the World Cup, after which they did a few chores around the house. In the afternoon, they had impromptu Quidditch games which often lasted until dinner. Harry decided to continue his flying lessons with Hermione after dinner, and took advantage of the privacy this time gave them.

The first morning they spent outside, de-gnoming the garden while listening to the game between Scotland and Luxembourg. Ron, having no particular team affiliations other than the Chudley Cannons, simply cheered for the teams hailing closest to home. Unfortunately for him, Britain as a whole was doing rather badly. As the game progressed, the Scots were doing worse and worse, and Ron took his frustration out on the gnomes. Every time Luxembourg widened their lead with another goal while he was holding a gnome, he would hurl it as hard as he could over the fence, as opposed to simply tossing it over. Harry and Hermione tried their best not to agitate him more. When the game finally ended and Luxembourg also caught the snitch while they were already well over 150 points in the lead, Ron punted the gnome he was holding over the fence. That caused Hermione to give him an earful on animal cruelty and humane pest-control tactics.

That evening, they talked about the significance of the vision Harry had the night after his birthday. Hermione asked a lot of questions, trying to squeeze out every detail he could remember. They managed to find a few relevant bits of information- the fact that Voldemort was hiding out in a building known as Riddle Manor. He had the help of Wormtail, and a snake named Nagini. Hermione was the one who reminded him of the effects of his Occlumency, which allowed him to distinguish the difference between his own emotions and Voldemort's. They both decided that Occlumency was a skill they had to work on, and master, as quickly as possible. Lacking a good method to test each other's mental shields, they realized they needed to learn Legilimency as well. Hermione decided that the next time they were in Diagon Alley, she would search Flourish and Blott's for a book on the mind arts.

The next day was Ireland versus Peru. All the other English teams had been knocked out of the running, but Ireland was a strong contender for the Cup. The task for the day was a thorough cleaning of the entire Burrow, and Ron would cheer loudly every time Ireland scored. It didn't seem so bad at first, and seeing Ron so cheerful helped lighten everyone's mood while working, but they soon realized the problem. Team Ireland was known for its amazing plays with their chasers- and they were regularly scoring a goal once a minute. That meant Ron spent as much time cheering as he did actually working. Harry wasn't quite sure whether Ron was more productive when his team was doing well, or doing poorly.

For their post-supper flight, Harry told Hermione how Sirius had given him notes on animagus training. Hermione's jaw dropped when he told her and very nearly wanted to end the flying lesson immediately to read them, but Harry quickly ascended into the air and refused to let her back down until they had done some proper flying. Still, they were eager to discuss the possibilities, or at least, Harry was. Hermione often kept him grounded in reality.

"What kind of animal do you wish you could be, Hermione?"

"You can't choose your animal, Harry. You have to _discover_ it."

"It doesn't hurt to imagine! What would you like to be?"

"Oh, I don't know... maybe a lioness? It just seems natural, being a Gryffindor and all. Although, I doubt that if everyone in Gryffindor became animagi that we'd all become lions or lionesses."

"Well, if you were a lioness, then I wouldn't mind being a lion..." mused Harry.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him, catching a glimpse of his jet-black hair flying wildly in the wind. "A lion? I don't know, Harry... I think you'd do better as a black panther..."

"A panther? What makes you say that?" asked Harry, as they changed direction and started circling the Burrow.

Quickly whipping her head back around and concentrating on looking straight ahead, she replied, "No reason... actually I pegged you for being some kind of bird. Like a hawk, maybe. You certainly love flying."

"That I do, Hermione. I wish I could be a phoenix, like Fawkes. I'd be able to flash in anywhere and come to your rescue..." said Harry absentmindedly, with images of the battle against the basilisk in second year passing through his head.

Her heart fluttered at the image of Harry, a knight in shining armour- no, wait, a knight in _flaming_ armour, descending from the skies to her rescue. "Y-You c-can't be a... um... a magical creature," she said, trying to calm herself down.

Harry noticed her nervousness, and quickly tightened his grip on the broom. "Oh! I'm sorry, Hermione. Are we too high up? Let's drop down lower to the ground. And yes, I know we can't be magical creatures in our animagus form, but I can always imagine it."

_Oh, Harry, you silly prat. You have no idea what you're doing to me!_ fumed Hermione. "What do you think I'd become, Harry?"

"Well, I always thought you'd be a raven or an owl. Your intelligence has always been what I like best about you."

"They're both birds, Harry! Have you forgotten that I have absolutely no talent for being in the air?"

"You're getting better at it, aren't you? In fact, tomorrow I'd let you ride the broom yourself while I fly beside you." Harry grinned, speeding up and climbing higher into the air.

"Harry!" Hermione took control of the broom, slowing down and levelling out.

"See? You're so smart. Your flying's improved so much in just three days."

"Well, I have you to thank, Harry. Besides, if you think my intelligence is my best trait, maybe I should become a dolphin, or an elephant. They're some of the smartest animals on the planet."

"Well, I'm not sure how useful a dolphin would be. I wouldn't want you to transform and then flop around on land, or transform back to a human in the water and end up with your clothes soaking wet."

"No, I don't think that would be useful, either. I wonder how many animagi are actually sea creatures?"

"I don't know, but I'm certain I won't be. I've never been to the ocean before. But if you turn into an elephant, that would be pretty interesting. Would you let me ride you?"

Hermione turned beet red, but Harry didn't notice, being right behind her and his view blocked by her hair. "R-Ride me?"

"Yeah! You know, I could climb on your back and... then... uh..." Harry suddenly realized what he was saying, and blushed furiously himself. They finished the flying lesson that day in silence.

The last day before they were set to leave was a day off for the children. Percy finally came home from his job at the ministry, giving only a short, formal hello to Harry and Hermione. In fact, he brought some of his work home with him, continued to toil away in his room. The twins, of course, wasted no time in their attempts to ruin his productivity and force him to take a day off. Hermione, ever the organized one, was already carefully packing and getting ready for the trip, which would begin early in the morning the next day. Harry followed her lead and packed his trunk, while Ron continued to listen to the last semi-final match on the Wireless, Bulgaria vs. Luxembourg.

Ginny watched Hermione pack her trunk while sitting on her bed. Like last year, Ginny shared her room with Hermione during the last week of summer and had become fast friends. This year, however, she had remained relatively quiet. She was silent for several minutes, but suddenly said, "Hermione? Can I ask you a question?"

Without slowing down her packing, Hermione said nonchalantly, "Sure, Ginny. What do you want to know?"

Ginny got up from the bed and closed the door to her room. "Hermione... do you like Harry?"

_Oh no_, thought Hermione, as she froze. _Ginny's had a thing for Harry for years... what do I tell her?_ Slowly turning to face Ginny, she asked cautiously, "Um... why do you ask?"

"You know why," Ginny replied with a hint of pain in her voice. "I've always loved Harry, ever since I was little, but these past few days I've seen you with him... even though you said you weren't going out with him..."

"I'm not!" said Hermione defensively. "There's nothing going on... at least, not yet..." _Not yet? Do I really want this? Harry's so sweet to me even though he doesn't seem to realize it... maybe I should tell him after the World Cup is over_, she thought.

"So you _do _want him, don't you? How could you, Hermione? I told you last summer how much he means to me! I've loved him for so much longer than you!" cried Ginny.

"What? You've barely talked to him! I don't think you exchanged more than a few words ever since you met. How could you possibly love him?" Hermione shot back.

"But I do! I grew up with all the stories about him..." answered Ginny.

Hermione grabbed Ginny and looked at her, face to face. "Ginny! Those were just stories! If you haven't talked to him in person, how could you possibly know? You barely know him better than any of the other thousands of girls who grew up with stories of the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"But... But..." Ginny stammered, searching for an explanation. "But Harry saved be in first year! He rescued me from the Chamber of Secrets! He's so special to me... and he must care for me more than the other girls..."

"Ginny, this is exactly what I mean," said Hermione. "You don't understand Harry... you don't realize how he grew up never knowing his parents. Or how hard it is for him to make a real friend in the wizarding world. Or how he would have risked his life to save _anyone_ without thinking twice." _Or how he can be so romantic without even realizing it,_ she said to herself.

"Anyone? What do you... how do you know that? He saved _me_!" she asked, nearly in tears.

"Ginny... Harry went to stop the basilisk to save _everyone_ in school. He didn't even realize you were the one who was captured until he got down there. He told me the whole story when I was cured of the petrification."

Ginny started bawling as she understood. "I c-can't believe it. I-I always thought I w-was special to hi-him." She sniffed loudly. "Now it's like... like I've lost him... he doesn't even no-notice me." She cried harder with that thought.

Hermione sat beside her and patted her back. "Ginny... you've never lost Harry. You've lost the Boy-Who-Lived. He's just a fantasy, and he always has been. You can still talk to Harry and be his friend." Hermione continued to comfort her friend until it was time for dinner.

After dinner was over, Hermione actually led Harry outside, excited for another flying lesson with him. Ginny's conversation had stirred her feelings and forced her to admit, to herself at least, that Harry _was_ a very sweet, brave, and kind boy. She could hardly wait for another flight with his arms wrapped around her. He would whisper some advice in her ear, and she'd perform admirably, and he'd hug her a little tighter in congratulations... She snapped out of her little daydream to see Harry standing in front of her with a wide grin. He was holding two brooms. He held one out to Hermione. "Hermione! You've been learning so quickly! I knew you could learn things without having to read about it. Since today's the last day we can have these little lessons, I thought you could try riding a broom yourself!"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "But... But..." _But I want to ride the broom with you! I want you to be right there with me pressed against my back!_, she thought furiously, but she didn't dare embarrass herself by saying it out loud.

Harry tilted his head to the side. "What's wrong? Oh, don't be nervous. You'll do fine, don't worry. I'll be right there with you. Come on." Without waiting for any more protests from Hermione, he hopped on his own broom and began floating up. "Just stay close, and we'll fly beside each other, and I can keep giving you advice."

Hermione, to her own dismay, flew admirably. Her desire to fly tandem with Harry again was outweighed by her fear of actually falling off her broom if she "pretended" to make mistakes. It was the most unsatisfying flight ever since Madam Hooch's broom-riding lesson.

* * *

Around midnight, while everyone in the house was sleeping, Ginny crept downstairs and sat on the couch in front of the fireplace with her favourite books. She opened the first one.

_Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived_

_Once upon a time, there was a beautiful witch and a powerful wizard who loved each other very much. They were the Potters, and they had a beautiful baby boy named Harry..._

Ginny sighed. The books rarely talked about Harry's parents, and they were often only mentioned in passing. What were their names again? She didn't even know...

_...and You-Know-Who came knocking at the door. "Let me in!" he shouted._

"_Never! You'll never find out how to get inside." came the reply from the Potters._

"_I will tell you how to sneak in," said Sirius Black, You-Know-Who's most trusted man. "The Potters made me their Secret Keeper. I know of a secret trap door in their garden! I can show you where it is!"_

Ginny knew the story of how Sirius Black had betrayed the Potters. Ron told her later that it was actually Peter Pettigrew, who was actually Scabbers, who was the Secret Keeper... oh, it was so confusing. But leading Voldemort to a trap door in the garden? That couldn't possibly be what it meant to be a secret keeper.

"_I will stop you with my spells!" said Mr. Potter. He cast all the most powerful spells at You-Know-Who, but it wasn't enough. They fought and they fought, but You-Know-Who's spells were more powerful than Mr. Potter's. He defeated Mr. Potter and walked upstairs._

"_I will stop you with my potions!" said Mrs. Potter. She threw her most powerful potions at You-Know-Who, but it wasn't enough. You-Know-Who blocked them with his shield, and Mrs. Potter ran out of potions. He defeated Mrs. Potter and walked into the bedroom._

"_How will you stop me, boy?" asked You-Know-Who._

_Harry Potter stood up and faced him. "I don't have to stop you, because you can never hurt me!" he said._

"_What? I am the darkest Dark Lord that has ever existed! Why do think that I can't hurt you?" shouted You-Know-Who._

_Harry answered, "Because I am Pure of Heart, and you are Evil! Your Evil magic can never hurt a good boy like me!"_

_You-Know-Who got angry and cast his most powerful spell, the Killing Curse, at Harry Potter. But Harry was such a good boy and his heart was so pure that the Killing Curse couldn't touch it, and bounced back._

"_Nooo! How could this be? I have been defeated by my own Dark Magic!" cried You-Know-Who as he died. The whole world cheered for Harry Potter for getting rid of the evil You-Know-Who and he lived happily ever after._

Ginny blinked. It had been years since she read the book again, but it all seemed so silly now. Harry Potter didn't know how he defeated Voldemort. In fact, nobody knew how it happened. The Killing Curse killed instantly, so Voldemort couldn't have wailed in his defeat. And lastly... sadly, Harry Potter did not live happily ever after. Ron, Fred, and George had told her how Harry got locked up in his own room at the Dursleys. She sighed, putting the book down, and opened up the next one.

_Harry Potter Adventures: The Serpent King_

_Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was on an adventure with his friends in the jungle._

Ginny paused at the first line. There were so many errors right in the very first line. Harry had no friends until Hogwarts- his only friends were Ron and Hermione. He had never been on any vacations, never travelled outside of London, and certainly never marched through a jungle.

"_The Serpent King can talk to snakes! He commands them to attack our village! He is an evil wizard!" said another villager._

_Harry Potter knew that You-Know-Who talked to snakes, too. The Serpent King must have been using dark magic. Harry Potter knew he would have to defeat him or else his evil would spread throughout the world._

Ginny paused here. Obviously, nobody would have guessed that Harry Potter himself was a Parselmouth. He was the living proof that being a Parselmouth didn't make you a dark wizard.

"_You can never defeat my monsters," said the Serpent King. "Now, you will have to face the most powerful snake of all: the Hydra!"_

_The hydra was a giant snake with seven heads. The Serpent King hissed and whispered to the hydra. "I just told my hydra to attack you! What are you going to do?"_

_Harry Potter walked up to the seven-headed beast and pulled out his wand. He cast a spell to cut one of the monster's head off. It was so big that it shook the ground when it fell. Right away, the Hydra grew its head back! "Ha ha, you can never defeat my Hydra, Harry Potter! It can keep regrowing its heads as long as one of them still remains! You can't cast your spells fast enough!"_

Harry was supposed to have a wand when he was underage? Somehow, it never occurred to her that he never should have owned a wand in any of these adventures.

_Harry Potter said, "Maybe not by myself, but I have friends to help me! Let's defeat it together!" All seven children cast the spells at the same time, and all seven of the hydra's head were cut off at the same time..._

Ginny thought back to Harry's real adventures. Ron told her about their first year, and Harry ended up facing Quirrel alone. In her first year, Harry ended up facing Tom and the basilisk alone. Harry really seemed like he was always forced to face his attackers by himself...

_They tied up the Serpent King and brought him back to the village. The villagers all thanked him. Harry Potter and his friends left the village to search for the next adventure._

Ginny closed the book. Harry had certainly had his fair share of adventures, but he never really did go looking for trouble, did he? All this time, she had been reading from authors, and the authors obviously had no idea who Harry Potter really was. She didn't bother opening the last book. She knew it only contained more fantasies. Hermione said that Harry had never even seen these stories himself. What would he think if he saw them? Laugh? Cry? Get angry? She couldn't even hazard a guess- she really didn't know him, after all. Walking up to the fireplace, she tossed all three books into the fireplace, with a few silent tears falling down her cheeks as she watched them burn.

* * *

The next morning was even more frenetic than Sept. 1st, which was amazing, since half the house was still half asleep. It was early in the morning, well before sunrise, but they needed to be out of the house by five to catch the portkey. Every two minutes it seemed like somebody had forgotten something, rushing up to their rooms and back downstairs. After a hearty breakfast, they began their walk to the scheduled portkey site. Only the children who had yet to come of age would be taking the portkey, so Bill, Charlie, and Percy would apparate on their own, letting them sleep in.

The group of them arrived at the site, and were greeted by the Diggory family. Apparently they would all be travelling together. Everyone gave pleasant, but tired, greetings and Mr. Weasley showed them the portkey: an old, tarnished metal bowl. When Cedric reached for the bowl, however, an uncomfortable feeling came over Harry and he grabbed Cedric's wrist. Cedric looked at him in confusion. Harry, unsure of what he was doing, looked back at him. "Umm... Cedric... Have you ever had any... unpleasant experiences with portkeys?"

Cedric raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Well, I had my first portkey ride when I was six, and I felt nauseous afterwards. I've gotten used to it since then, though. First time for you, Harry?"

"Err... No... I mean, yes. I just... got the feeling that taking a portkey wasn't good for your health, Cedric," Harry replied. He had the déjà vu feeling again. Something about Cedric, portkeys, and winning... they didn't mix. Well, what are they winning here? Maybe it was a different portkey he had to worry about.

Cedric's father, Amos, laughed. "Oh, don't you worry, my boy. Portkeys are perfectly safe. Certainly safer than any muggle contraption you've ever ridden in, isn't that right, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley nodded. "That's right. It does feel a little odd, but it won't hurt. Now hurry up, you have to have your hands on the portkey in thirty seconds."

Harry let go of Cedric's wrist and placed his hand on the bowl. Cedric did as well. "Five... four... three... two... one..." With a tugging feeling at his navel, they whirled away to the World Cup camping grounds. Harry fell over on arrival, knocking Hermione and Ron over. The twins laughed as Mr. Weasley helped them up.

"Is that why you were so worried about the portkey, Harry? Surely you're not afraid of a bruise or two? You've had far worse injuries from Quidditch alone," Cedric said to him.

"Umm... no, that's not... well, never mind," Harry muttered.

Cedric grinned and slapped him on the back. "No need to be embarrassed about it, Harry. It takes a few tries to really get used to it."

"Well, our camping site's this way, Amos," said Mr. Weasley. "We'll be seeing you!"

They waved goodbye to the Diggorys as they parted ways. As they trekked across the grounds, Hermione leaned over to Harry, whispering, "What was all that about, Harry?"

He whispered back, "I don't know, but it was a horrible feeling... I thought Cedric was going to die if when he touched a portkey. Maybe I was wrong..."

"It must have been one of your memories from the other trips. Maybe it was a different portkey that you have to stop him from touching."

Harry nodded in reply. It was certainly more than instinct, it was something he had experienced, but forgotten. "We should practice our Occlumency tonight. Maybe I can dig up some more detail if I meditate on it."

There wasn't much else to do, in fact. Most of the Weasley boys, save Percy, spent a good portion of the day playing pick-up quidditch with the neighbouring campers. In fact, there were so many people flying around on broomsticks that Hermione couldn't practice flying without the possibility of crashing into someone. Harry spent the day wandering the campgrounds with Ginny and Hermione. There were plenty of merchants selling random trinkets and carnival stalls to make a quick Galleon, but nothing to hold their interest. They had retired by mid-afternoon to practice their Occlumency. Ginny left them to help her father around the tent.

Ron came back from his game some time later, walking in on the two of them sitting in the tent's living room. "Hey, what are you doing, mate?"

"We're practicing Occlumency," answered Hermione.

"What's that?"

"It's a way of organizing your mind," said Harry. "It's pretty useful. You should try it."

"You sure? It looks kinda boring..."

"Ron, you think everything that isn't Quidditch is boring," said Hermione.

"Just try it, Ron. It makes learning stuff in school a lot easier, too," said Harry.

"...Alright, fine." Ron sat down with them. "How do I do this?"

"Well, first close your eyes and imagine a place that will keep you calm, maybe some place you know very well and you're comfortable in," said Hermione.

Ron's made several faces over the next few minutes before finally settling down to a small grin. "What place did you pick, Ron?"

His grin grew wider. "Quidditch pitch. And everyone's cheering for me."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Ron, the place you imagine isn't supposed to make you feel good, it's supposed to make you feel nothing at all! Try again!"

"It's hard! What kind of places do you use?" complained Ron.

"Empty sky, above the clouds. It's all blue above me and endless clouds below," answered Harry.

"Underwater, deep below the surface," said Hermione.

"Wait, so you guys have been sitting around here thinking about practically nothing?" asked Ron incredulously.

"Well, yeah. That's the start of it, at least," answered Harry.

"This is even worse than studying for exams," said Ron. "We're at the World Cup! I'm going outside to have some fun." He got up and left the tent, muttering to himself.

"It's his loss," said Harry, shrugging. "What did you want to try next?"

"I wanted to get started on Animagus training, Harry." Hermione grinned. "I've been reading through Sirius's notes a few more times and I think it actually overlaps with Occlumency exercises."

"Really? How do we begin?"

"Well, the key to finding your inner animal is to tap into your most basic, primal emotions. You have to focus on thoughts that make you incredibly happy, sad, angry, fearful, and so on."

Harry listened and began to think. He already had practice finding thoughts that made him happy, which he used to cast a Patronus. Receiving his Hogwarts letter and discovering he was a wizard. Finding out Sirius was his godfather. Catching the snitch for the first time in Quidditch. He could feel very happy with those memories. Fear was nearly as easy, as he could remember the effects of the Dementors- the chilling feeling and the screams of his mother coming to mind. Anger, though, was more difficult. Had he ever truly been angry? He supposed the Dursleys did make him mad, but after living with them for over a decade, it was all he had known, and he had gotten used to the neglectful attitude of his aunt and uncle. He knew Hermione grew extremely angry when she found out how they treated him, but he couldn't evoke the same kind of emotion. Draco Malfoy was certainly an annoyance at school, but for the most part, he was only that- an annoyance. He would have to search his memories harder to find something that truly made him mad, as well as the other primal emotions.

The two of them continued to meditate until everyone was back in the tent for dinner. Everyone was excited about the match tomorrow, and they were all discussing the strategies and plays they were expecting to see in the game. Hermione was not happy to find out that the twins had placed a bet on the outcome. Their argument that they had bet with the Director of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman himself, didn't help at all. The discussions and debates ran well into the night, when all of them finally crawled into their beds for the game, which was to begin at noon.

* * *

The events surrounding the game had been as exciting as the game itself. The mascots for each of the teams were very good at swaying the crowds and supporting their team. The Irish naturally had leprechauns, who conjured gold for the crowds and taunted the opposing team in an extremely distracting manner. The Bulgarian team's mascots were Veela- a very wise choice, given the audience in attendance was mostly male. They were extremely beautiful women who quickly swayed the crowds to them when they let loose some type of aura. Harry immediately felt it intruding on his mind, compelling him in some way to give himself over to them, but quickly threw up his Occlumency shields and the thoughts disappeared. Ron and the other Weasleys, however, weren't quite so lucky. Bill was the only one who also seemed to be completely resistant to the charms. It was hard to blame the others, though, as even the referee seemed to fall under their spell at one point.

The game was also the most exciting match of Quidditch Harry had ever watched. The game began with a fast pace with the Irish chasers taking control of the game. They never let up, but the Bulgarian beaters and keepers kept a strong enough defense to keep the game exciting. Viktor Krum of the Bulgarian team was clearly the better seeker, and throughout the game he kept extremely active, luring the bludger, distracting the keeper, and even tricking his opposing seeker into thinking he had found the snitch more than once. Harry learned a lot from watching his play, and resolved to do much more than simply look for the snitch during his future Quidditch games. Amazingly, despite all the action, Krum still managed to keep an eye out for the snitch. He ended the game by catching it, but their team lost due to the extremely large lead the Irish chasers had managed to create. Ireland took home the World Cup.

On their way out the stadium, they ran into the Diggory family again. Cedric waved them over, grinning. "What a game, eh, Harry? This may be my last year at Hogwarts, but I'm sure you'll be flying like Krum in no time."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "I don't know if I'll ever be as good as him, but I certainly learned a lot watching him play. I'm going to test out a few of the moves I saw today."

Cedric laughed. "Well, when you start slaughtering the other house teams with your plays, at least I won't be blamed for Hufflepuff's losses."

Harry smiled widely as his rival seeker complimented him. "Thanks, Cedric. Don't sell yourself short, though, you're a great seeker."

Smiling back, Cedric replied, "Thanks, Harry. I'll be seeing you later. I'm glad Ireland took home the trophy tonight- we'll be celebrating after we portkey back home, I'm sure."

_Portkey. Trophy. Cedric._ The thoughts rang through his mind. Turning to Hermione, he whispered, "Hermione! I'm getting that bad feeling about Cedric again... something about trophies and portkeys... do you remember anything from the first three trips we took?"

"Not as much, Harry. They seemed even less clear after we took the trip through the new beacon. I've forgotten nearly everything that wasn't packed into an Occlumency capsule in my head," she whispered back. Harry knew it was true. All of the most important information he still remembered- the improvements to the beacon, the location of the Room of Requirement, the horcruxes, and so on... everything else had nearly disappeared.

"I want to keep an eye on him. I have a feeling something bad's going to happen."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I'll grab the Return Clusters from my trunk, Harry. We might need them. Be careful."

Harry snuck away from the group, tailing Cedric. He only followed him for a few minutes before Cedric reached his exit portkey with his family, and they left the grounds, safe and sound. _Huh_, thought Harry. _I guess I was wrong after all._ At that moment, he heard some screams in the distance, and the crowd suddenly seemed to be moving more quickly. Looking in the direction of the screams, he saw people being lifted into the air, tossed around like rag dolls... by people in dark cloaks and white masks.

Nearly everyone around him was running and screaming now. He quickly ran towards the Weasleys' tent, and saw a large group with red hair making its way through the crowd. He ran towards them as fast as he could, but he noticed one person missing from the group. "Where's Hermione?" he shouted.

"Isn't she with you, Harry? You both gave us a fright wandering off by yourselves!" Arthur said to him worriedly.

"No! She's back at the tent! I have to go get her!" Harry ran off as quickly as he could, before anyone could object.

"Harry! It's not safe at the campgrounds! We have to evacuate! Let the Aurors handle it!" he heard the shouting behind him. He couldn't do that... he had to save her. The Aurors might not get there in time. She could get hurt. _Or she might already be hurt_, he thought. He didn't dare slow down until he reached the Weasley tent.

"Well well, looks like I can finally have some fun with this mudblood here," he heard as he entered the tent. He saw one of the masked, robed men. He immediately cast an _Expelliarmus_ from behind, disarming the man, followed by a _Stupefy_. He quickly rushed over to Hermione, who was slumped down beside her trunk. Fear and horror rushed over him. He grabbed her, holding her close, but noticed she was still breathing. _Good_, he thought. _I haven't lost her._

Just then, he heard another voice from the entrance of the tent. "What's taking so long? Don't tell me you're shagging some bint in there- Oi!" He heard heavy footsteps come into the tent. There was obviously no place to hide in the tent, so he did the only thing he could think of- attack. He ran out of the bedroom, casting an _Expelliarmus_ at the second intruder, followed up by banishing a chair towards him. The new attacker was evidently on alert when he saw his unconscious partner, and quickly threw up a shield to block the disarming charm, but was hit by the chair. He grunted angrily, "You little runt! I'll get you for that!"

Harry threw a couple more spells at the man- stunners, disarmers, tripping jinxes mixed in with another banishing charm here and there. The man he was facing was not a very adept dueller, but he held his own through brute strength and magic. He kept up a shield that deflected most of Harry's spells, and was barely fazed by the objects Harry banished towards him. He sent a bludgeoning curse at Harry, knocking him back into the bedroom and turned to revive his partner.

Harry knew he was completely outclassed once he got hit by the bludgeoning hex. It hit him harder than anything he could remember. It broke a few of his ribs and threw him backwards a good ten feet. Obviously his opponent was the type who lacked finesse, but made up for it in spades with sheer, brute force. Now that he had to face two of them, both of them right outside, there was no escape for the two of them. Thinking quickly, he banished the bed towards the entrance, and threw a sticking charm. He hoped it would hold for just enough time...

Picking up a rune cluster, he pressed it against Hermione's chest and forced as much magic as he could muster, quickly charging it up until it flashed a bright white. Wasting no time, he grabbed the other cluster and held it against his own chest. He heard some amused laughter from behind the bed. "Looks like the runt thought this could stop us. Heh. _Reducto._" The bed practically exploded, sending splinters of wood flying into Harry. He managed to shield his face with his arms, but pieces of wood pierced both his arms and legs. He could barely hold up his wand now, and he was almost magically exhausted. Forcing every last bit of magic he could muster into the runes, they began to glow.

"What do you have there, kid? You still want to fight? _Diffindo_." Pain erupted through his right arm as the severing charm sliced it open, causing him to drop his wand. _Just a little more, _he thought. With every last bit of effort, he picked up the wand with his left hand and kept it pointed at his chest, forcing more magic into the cluster. _I'm almost there..._

"I'll take care of this one," said the first man, pointing his wand at Harry. Muttering something incomprehensible, Harry could only see a flash of light before he fell unconscious.

* * *

**Author's chapter end notes:**

- Yes, the references to the lioness/panther animagus forms are a nod to _Vox Corporis_ by MissAnnThropic. One of my favourite animagus-harry fics.


	7. Missing the Train

**Author's Notes:** JKR owns HP but the temporal beacon's mine. =P

- seven chapters in seven days! Booyah! I have no idea how long this mad creative streak i'm having is going to last, but enjoy it while it's here.

- Here's another chapter that suddenly expanded and became much longer than I originally thought it would be, and so I ended up splitting it into two separate chapters. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 7: Missing the Train**

Hermione was trying to remember where she was. She could remember huge crowds, much like being at a football game. There was shouting... running... she was getting something important... someone had attacked her! Her heart jumped, the small adrenaline rush bringing her to full alertness. Lifting her head, she noticed she had been hovering just over Harry's face. The position was very familiar. Using her wand to light up the room, she confirmed it- they were back in the Chamber of Secrets. _Why are we back here? I never got a chance to activate the cluster, _thought Hermione. She looked back at Harry. _Unless he came back for me..._ Hermione realized that this must have been what happened. He must have risked his live to save hers. _I owe my life to him, _she thought, gently caressing his face. _He looks so peaceful sleeping like this. I could watch him for hours._

She suddenly realized that she never had the chance to watch him sleep in her lap before. _Why did I wake up first this time?_ she wondered. _Oh well, at least I'm not waking up with a bloody lip. In fact... maybe I can wake him up with a kiss..._ She giggled at her thoughts of a reversed fairy-tale ending. Leaning closer to him, she was debating with herself. _Should I? Shouldn't I? He just saved my life and I want to kiss him for it, but he's asleep! That's like stealing!_ She continued to agonize over Harry's lips when he suddenly jerked awake, smacking straight into Hermione as usual.

_Damn you, Fates! Do we have to do this every time?_ thought Hermione grudgingly. She didn't let it distract her, though, as she rushed over to Harry and immediately hugged him. "Harry!" she cried. "You saved me, didn't you?"

Harry, ever the modest one, didn't quite know how to answer such a blunt question. "I... er... I guess I did. But you saved me just as much, getting those Return Clusters out..."

"Don't say that! It's my fault you had to come after me in the first place... you had to fight off the man who attacked me!" Hermione sobbed into Harry's shoulder. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been."

"Oh, him? I disarmed and stunned him before he saw me. He... uh... wasn't the problem."

"What? Why did you have to send both of us back in time, then? Couldn't you have caught up with everyone again?"

_Oh, bollocks. Why did I have to say that? Now I'm just going to get her more upset. _ _Maybe I should just... no, I can't lie to Hermione. Heck, even if I tried she'd see right through me, _thought Harry. "Well, it was actually the second guy who came in..."

Harry began to explain everything that happened during the night of the World Cup. She hugged him tighter and tighter until he got to the part where he was knocked back and broke a few ribs, and she instinctively let go. They both laughed when they realized that he couldn't possibly have transferred his injuries from the future, so Hermione embraced him once again. She began crying outright when he told her that he used up most of his strength sending her back first, and barely had any left for himself.

"Don't do that again, Harry! How could you? You might not have made it back! You would have forgotten... everything... we did together." Hermione thought of all the letters they exchanged, the week at the Weasleys, and especially the evenings.

"But... you would have lost this summer, Hermione. You seemed so happy... I didn't want you to lose that joy you had this summer. If I had to do it again, I'd do the same thing. You're everything to me..." Harry said solemnly, but Hermione tackled him. Harry, taken completely by surprise, fell on his back without resistance. Hermione straddled him with an angry, but affectionate look on her face.

She began to hit him on his chest with every word she spoke. "Don't... you... ever... think... like... that... again!" She fell down on top of him. "You're everything to me, too," she whispered into his ear. They lay there in the Chamber of Secrets holding each other, silently enjoying each other's presence, because they both knew how close they had come to losing it.

Harry eventually commented, "I'm glad you brought the clusters with you to the game, Hermione. We might have never made it without them."

Hermione, still laying on top of Harry, whispered, "Yes, that was what I thought of first when you mentioned Cedric, and you thought he was going to get hurt because of one of the futures you experienced. I remembered they could be used as a means of escape. What happened with Cedric, anyways?"

"Nothing. He left before the attacks started. I guess it wasn't the World Cup where he gets hurt. I do know it had something to do with the cup... or a cup... and a portkey." Harry took a deep breath, and stroked Hermione's hair. "You know, I'm glad you thought of that, because I never would have come up with it myself. I only did it because I noticed you had brought them out of your trunk when I ran over to you. I'm just glad I charged them up in time."

Hermione sat up quickly, her eyes wide. "Oh... that's why I sent it... I had no idea it would happen so quickly, though..." she mumbled.

"Sent what?" asked Harry.

"I... um... I wanted to save it for after the summer when we got back to Hogwarts, and I wasn't sure if I should have gone through with it, but now..."

"Hermione, slow down. What did you send? What are you talking about?"

Hermione took a deep breath to calm down. "Along with the plans for the improved beacon, there was also a design for a... different... Return Cluster."

"Really, Hermione? Is it a better design? Why didn't you mention it before?" Harry was surprised that Hermione wouldn't think of using such knowledge to her advantage right away.

"Well, there's three reasons," she began. "First, I had left myself a message saying the design was untested, so I didn't use it. Secondly, I wanted to finish the new beacon as fast as possible, and the two of us only managed to complete it right before school ended. And the last..." she hesitated.

"What is it? It can't be that bad, can it?" asked Harry.

"It... it's essentially a blood ritual!" she cried. "I'd have to carve the entire Return Cluster into your body, along with a few extra ones... and they'd need to be permanent, so they would have to be scarred. I didn't want to do that to you!"

Harry goggled at her, but kept calm. "But there's... some advantage to it, right? I mean, more than keeping it with me all the time, because we could always just make the Return Cluster into a necklace or something if we needed to keep it nearby. You wouldn't have invented it if there wasn't some _huge_ advantage, would you?"

"Um... well, it's supposed to be bound to your life," said Hermione. "If you ever died or came close to dying, it would activate automatically without your having to charge it up."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You're telling me that there's a way to automatically come back if I die? We're testing this thing out. As soon as possible. How long will it take?"

Hermione was shocked at his sudden acceptance of the idea. "Um... it could take a couple hours... wait, we don't have time to do this! We'll miss the train!"

Harry had completely forgotten what they had come back to. They would always come back to an unpacked trunk just before it was time to go. "Gah! He cried, bolting to his feet. How much time have we got this time around? _Calentempa._" The time spell showed 1994, June 30th, 11:40 AM. Both of them stared at the time. The Hogwarts Express had left the station well over an hour and a half ago. "Why did we wake up so late this time?" he asked Hermione.

"I think... maybe it was because we were both unconscious when we got sent back. Our most recent experiences and memories dominate, remember?"

Harry nodded. "Wait, how about the new design that you sent back to yourself? Won't that kind of send us back... er... dead?" he asked awkwardly, unsure of how to phrase it properly.

Hermione shook her head. "No, that has to do with a few of the modifications for this one. I'll explain it in detail, but essentially it continually makes a copy of your memories, so if you die, it sends back your memory and experience of about five minutes beforehand. The other runes monitor your health and keep the whole thing permanently charged up."

Harry understood. "Well... since we've already missed the train, why don't we sneak up to the Room of Requirement to try it out?"

"Harry! What about getting home? Should you be worried..." Hermione stopped, realizing that Harry had no desire whatsoever to go back to the Dursleys unless he was forced to. Harry, on the other hand, realized his mistake when Hermione mentioned home.

"Oh, I forgot about your parents! I'm sorry, Hermione... maybe we should leave this until we get back at the end of summer..."

"No, Harry! This is more important! We didn't even make it all the way through the summer last time! We have to do this now," she said firmly. "But maybe I can borrow Hedwig and owl my parents telling them I missed the train... and that we'll meet them some other way."

Harry pulled out his cloak and the map. "Well, Hermione. Shall we?"

* * *

It took them nearly an hour to get to the Owlery, send off the note, and sneak into the Room of Requirement. Obviously Professor McGonagall had noticed that Harry and Hermione's belongings were still unpacked when she checked Gryffindor Tower, and she had alerted the rest of staff. Not wanting to explain how they were sneaking around school and preparing to perform a blood ritual, they decided to be as cautious as possible and stayed under the cloak, using the map to take detours as much as possible.

Arriving at the hallway of the Room, they waited until nobody was nearby, and Hermione led the "summoning" of the room. _I need a room to secretly etch blood runes into Harry's body for the next few hours without hurting him, _she thought as specifically as possible, while walking past the blank wall three times. A tiny doorknob appeared in the stony wall, but no door appeared. Curious, she twisted the knob, and the camouflaged door opened up, and they both ran inside. The door sealed itself quickly behind them.

Inside, they found a room somewhat like an operating room. There was a large sink and shower at the back, along with dozens aprons, gloves, and other tools to ensure cleanliness. A soft, diffuse glow emanated from the entire ceiling so there were very few shadows. At the center of the room, there was a diverse set of knives, all gleaming and perfectly clean, sitting on a tray beside an odd chair. The chair was slanted, cushioned, and had a face rest, much like a masseuse's chair, and was obviously made for Harry to comfortably rest face down. A large whiteboard was at the wall facing the table.

Hermione grinned, running over to the whiteboard, and began using her wand to quickly copy down all the notes she had on the procedure, along with a detailed diagram. Harry decided it he should shower while Hermione was preparing for the procedure. "No peeking!" he said, just as he stepped into the shower stall, pulling the curtain behind him. Hermione, who had been so focused on writing everything out, turned when she heard his voice. Her jaw dropped when she saw a pile of robes on the floor and Harry's bare shoulders sticking out of the curtain. _Did he just strip in front of me? _thought Hermione. _I didn't think he had the nerve... and I MISSED IT!_ She nearly hyperventilated when she squeaked out, "Are you naked?"

Harry laughed from behind the shower curtain. "No, Hermione. I just took my robes and shirt off. I'm not going to completely strip down in front of you." She couldn't see it, but he was nearly doubled over in laughter. He had correctly guessed that Hermione would have seen the clues and let her mind go into overdrive. He tossed the rest of the clothes over the curtain and began to shower. After he was done, he opened the curtains a peek and grabbed the towels and his pants again, and half-dressed himself.

Hermione was waiting for him, all dressed up like a surgeon. She was taking great delight in playing doctor- in fact, her parents had wanted her to grow up to become one, at least until she found out she was a witch. The dream never quite died out, of course, as she realized she could pursue the best of both worlds as a magical healer. Harry sat down, and Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder before he lay against the face rest. "Harry... are you sure you want me to do this?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm just afraid that... I might hurt you... or mess up the procedure..."

"Hermione! Don't say that! I have complete faith in you. I _know_ that you'll do this perfectly," said Harry. "Don't even think for a second that you're hurting me. You could very well be saving my life with this."

His complete conviction to the task helped reassure Hermione. Harry leaned into the chair and Hermione began to copy the entire diagram carefully onto his back. When she was done, she picked up her wand and cast the most powerful numbing charm she could muster. "_Vacuus Sensurus._ This'll numb your back, Harry. It's not quite as effective as the numbing potion and it will wear off faster, so if you start feeling any pain at all, tell me to recast it, okay?" After a simple "okay" from Harry, she began to work. Tracing the lines she had already drawn with a sharp scalpel, she cut into Harry's flesh. Thankfully, he didn't twitch at all. "Did that hurt, Harry?"

"No, Hermione. You cast that charm perfectly, I barely felt it. Keep going."

Hermione smiled, slowly and carefully making short cuts with her knife, and cauterizing the wounds immediately to prevent bleeding and infection, and also to ensure that the runes would remain scarred into his back. Hermione nearly gagged at the smell of burning flesh, but pressed onwards. About halfway through, Harry signalled to her that the numbing charm was wearing off. She recast the charm, wondering what Harry's threshold of pain was, because it was longer than she thought her charm would have lasted. When she was finally complete, she wiped down Harry's back with a damp, warm towel.

"We're all done, Harry."

Harry gave her a hug. "Thank you, Hermione. Let's go back to the chamber." He was keeping his expression neutral as he put his shirt back on, and grabbed his invisibility cloak and his map. Hermione knew he was hiding something.

"Harry? Why do you want to go back there? Wait, shouldn't I get the runes too? I'll show you exactly what you need to do for the procedure..." she said.

"Oh... um... we can do that a bit later. There's something I left down in the chamber that I have to get." Harry was suspiciously avoiding Hermione's gaze, but she followed him back downstairs. Most of the teachers seemed to have left the building already, deciding that they weren't inside. It made the trip back much quicker.

Upon their arrival, Hermione stopped Harry. She asked him, "What's this all about, Harry? What are we doing down here?"

"Err... before I answer, can you tell me if you have your sandstones here with you?" asked Harry, who was still staring at Hermione's feet.

"Yes, I kept a bunch of them in my satchel. Do you want to make another Return Cluster now, Harry?" Hermione was still trying to figure out what Harry was up to.

"You should get started on that, Hermione. I'll be right back." Harry jogged over to the huge basilisk corpse while Hermione removed her sandstones from her bag. She watched him, curious as to what he was doing. He heard him quietly mutter a spell, and, to her shock, he scraped his arm against one of the basilisk's fangs.

"HARRY!" She shrieked, running over to him as quickly as she could. "What are you doing? The venom in the basilisk is still potent after it's dead! What... why..."

He managed a weak smile, and answered with an apology. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I just knew you wouldn't let me go through with it if you knew what I was doing. But you did tell me this whole thing was untested, right? Well... I guess this is the first test."

Hermione ran up to him, and saw that he had cut a small gash on his own arm, and obviously dripped the venom directly into the wound. "Of course I would have stopped you, Harry! We could have found another way! We... we..."

"There wasn't any other way, was there, Hermione?" asked Harry. "I saw your diagram on the board... I've learned enough about runes this summer to at least figure out what it all meant. It only activates if I die." He was beginning to feel lethargic, and stumbled slightly. "I guess that was why it was 'untested,' wasn't it, Hermione? Well, if it doesn't work... you can just tell me right away before we go through all of this again."

Hermione knew he was right, but she didn't want to admit it. Supporting him under his arm, she helped him sit down in a more comfortable position. "That didn't mean you had to go and do _this_, Harry! You stupid, reckless, fool of a boy..." She began to sob. "You just had to do this... to me... right after I decided..."

"Decided? What?" Harry looked up at her. The venom was burning through his arm and making its way through his body.

"I... I decided..." Hermione began. _Oh god, he's dying right in front of me and I'm hesitating? I HAVE to tell him now, or else I'll never have the courage to..._ she reprimanded herself. "I decided that... after the World Cup... I would tell you that... I love you, Harry. And now you just had to poison yourself just before I had the chance to admit it." She began to cry openly.

"Oh... oh, no," said Harry, weakly. "I..."

Hermione drew a sharp breath between her sobs. _Oh no, is that what he says? He... really does see me as just a friend, doesn't he? All those sweet things he did all summer... was just because he's my friend, and nothing else, _she thought. _Oh dear Merlin, it's the same thing I told Ginny... that's just Harry... he'd do that for any of his friends, wouldn't he? I'm not that special to him... and now I might have ruined the friendship._ She could barely hear Harry continue to speak.

"...I've hurt you more than I thought, didn't I?" he whispered weakly. "I didn't know you cared for me that much, Hermione... or else... I would have admitted it to you... I love you, too, Hermione."

His last few words managed to capture Hermione's attention again. "What was that?" she asked, whirling back around so her face was inches from Harry's.

"I said... I love you too, Hermione. I'm sorry... I was stupid... I didn't realize that doing this would hurt you this much..." Harry's voice was getting weaker. Hermione's eyes widened as he said the words. "Hermione... will you be... my girlfriend?"

"You have to wait until you're _dying_ to ask me that?" she shrieked. Burying her face into his shoulders again, she whispered to him, "Of course I will, you silly prat. I can't believe you asked _now_. What if this doesn't work?"

Harry closed his eyes, as he felt his eyelids getting too heavy. "Don't think about that, Hermione. If it does work... I'll remember... and we'll have all summer to enjoy it." He slumped down into a more comfortable position as his breathing became laboured. Hermione watched, cradling his head in her arm. Just after his breathing stopped, the runes on his back flashed. Giving his lifeless body one last hug, she began to carve her own Return Cluster in sandstone.

* * *

Harry awoke on Hermione's lap and saw a worried, but hopeful, look on her face. "Harry?" she asked softly. "Do you remember...?"

He smiled, reaching up around Hermione's head and pulling her closer, and said, "I love you, Hermione." He pulled her down, pressing their lips together gently. Hermione didn't resist at all, in fact, she pulled him in closer so that she could enjoy the feeling of his lips pressed against her own, while he relished the sensation of Hermione's caressing his own with her soft touch. After what must have been ages, but far too soon for both of them, they broke apart. Harry broke into a wide grin, and so did Hermione, but her face suddenly turned into a scowl. She slapped Harry in the cheek.

"Don't you dare to that to me again!" she huffed.

Harry was in shock. _Didn't she just tell me that she loved me? I thought she enjoyed it too! It felt so right when we were kissing..._

Hermione continued. "Do you know how long it took me to carve those runes with your dead body laying in front of me? Five hours, Harry! Every time I managed to finish one rune I'd look up, and then I'd cry because I was seeing in front of me exactly what _could_ happen if I really did lose you, and then I'd have to calm myself down all over again. I had to redo four of the runes because my hand was shaking so much! Harry, you are such a prat!" She furiously gave him another slap, and just as quickly pulled him in and gave him another kiss. This one was powerful, angry, and passionate, and Harry didn't dare try to stop her.

She pulled back, and gave him another slap, albeit a much gentler one. "And that's for making me wake up with a bloody lip _three times_! I can't believe it took you until your _fourth_ try to get it right and give me a proper kiss!"

"But... we weren't a couple the first few times, Hermione," Harry said meekly.

"Oh, shut up, Harry! I'm still mad at you!" she shouted, as she pushed in onto his back.

"Okay," Harry mouthed, barely making a sound. Hermione lay down on top of him and gave him another long, passionate kiss, tilting their heads every which way and moving their lips across each other's. When they finally finished, Hermione smiled, and said, "That one was for finally giving me a _proper_ first kiss. Thank you, Harry." She got up, and pulled Harry up with her. "Alright, we've got to move quickly if my plan's going to work."

"Plan? What plan?" asked Harry.

"Oh, in between figuring out how to get back at you and waiting for you to wake up, I realized we had to move quickly to keep all this a secret. First off, for safety's sake, we need to redo the rune cluster on your back, and I need you to do one for me, too. We're going to miss the train."

"What? But how are we supposed to get home? And won't the staff be looking for us like last time?" asked Harry.

"Oh, that's easy. We'll have to pack our trunks, and I mean right now, to make it look like we're all set to leave. We'll put them in the chamber. By the time anyone notices we're not on the train, it'll be halfway to London already. I'll just send an owl to my parents telling me that I'll miss the train and I'll wait for them at the Leaky Cauldron instead of King's Cross. After we finish the carving, we just use one of the secret passages to sneak out of school, to Hogsmeade, and then floo from Three Broomsticks or something."

Harry furrowed his brow. "But... hm... the Dursleys wouldn't ever let me..."

Hermione gaped. "You don't actually want to stay with them, do you?" She blushed slightly. "I was hoping that I could convince my parents to let you stay over at my house this summer..."

Harry could barely contain his excitement. "You're saying you want me to spend all summer with you? Hermione!" He bounded over, hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you! You... You have no idea how much this means to me, Hermione."

"I do," said Hermione. "That's why I'm doing it. Now let's go, it's just past nine and we probably have less than fifteen minutes to pack and hide our trunks back in the chamber."

They decided to send the letter to Hermione's parents first, so they wouldn't have to double back later, and also gave instructions to Hedwig to wait for them with the Grangers. They got to Gryffindor Tower at around 9:10, or with about 20 minutes to go. With another trip to the tower, Harry once again found Ron asleep on his bed. _Is he really not going to wake up unless I do it for him?_ Harry thought. He was just about to douse Ron with another _Aguamenti_ spell when he thought of something. _If the professors are busy scrambling to get Ron out of the tower, maybe they won't notice me and Hermione missing._ He decided to let Ron lie in bed as he quickly packed his trunk, then met Hermione once again in the Common Room.

"We should head down to the Great Hall, just so a few people see us at breakfast and know we're packed up and ready to go," said Hermione.

"Good idea," said Harry. "I left Ron in bed. He's still asleep."

Hermione looked at him and nearly burst out laughing. They made their way down to the Great Hall, just as most of the other students were walking out. They grabbed a bagel each, and began to follow the crowd. Just as they passed a convenient alcove, they ducked inside without anybody noticing and Harry threw his invisibility cloak around both of them. They waited for the last few stragglers before they moved out, making sure there was nobody who would notice two floating trunks with no owners, and made a dash for the second floor girls' bathroom.

"Who's there?" shouted Myrtle as they arrived. They didn't bother replying. Seeing nobody, Myrtle said, "Oh! Is it a new ghost? Did somebody else die? Don't worry, you can hang out here with me!"

_Well, I did die, but I don't plan on spending an eternity with you, Myrtle, _thought Harry. _Maybe with Hermione, though, _he added.

Leaving their trunks in the chamber, they watched the map until all the students, except for Ron, had left the school. The heads of houses were beginning their walk through their respective dormitories, and McGonagall was sure to find Ron any minute now. This was the perfect time for them to make their move up to the Room of Requirement.

Hermione made the request for the room again, except this time asking for a room where both of them could get blood runes etched. The only difference with this room was that it provided two shower stalls, separated by a large partition and separate changing areas for the two of them, and two sets of carving knives. Hermione decided to move the whiteboard so that it lay on the ground in front of the chair, so that Harry could read the diagram while she was etching the runes into his back.

Hermione did an excellent job explaining the technique for cutting the runes into their bodies. She was rather squeamish the first time, but was far more comfortable with the procedure the second time around and finished it much more quickly. Since most of the runes were identical to the ones used in their regular Return Cluster, Harry had little trouble understanding them and concentrated on the new runes, which provided the life-monitoring and charging functions, as well as a literal dead-man's switch which would release as soon as the life-monitoring runes failed.

* * *

When she was finished with Harry's runes, they both took showers and Hermione meekly kept herself covered until she sat down on the chair, facing away from Harry. As Harry drew the outlines on Hermione's back, he let his hand brush across her skin. _Dear Merlin, Hermione's beautiful. How could I not realize it before?_

Noticing his hesitation, Hermione asked, "Is s-something wrong, Harry?"

"No, nothing's wrong... It's just that... you're so beautiful, Hermione. I should have noticed before. Are you sure you want me to... carve these runes into your back?" he asked.

Hermione gulped. "You think I'm beautiful? Really? You're not just saying that, are you?"

"No, Hermione. I guess I never noticed before under all those robes, but seeing you lying down here in front of me, there's no way I can say you're anything less than gorgeous," he answered sincerely.

Hermione's heart suddenly beat twice as fast in excitement. Harry thought she was beautiful! Her, the little bookworm that everyone always made fun of for being nerdy and ugly, was _gorgeous_, according to Harry. All the insults that other children had teased her with over the years simply melted away in the face of the one person for which who truly mattered. She twisted around in the seat and gave him a quick kiss while hugging him. "Thank you, Harry! I... I'm glad you... don't think I'm ugly."

Harry suddenly stiffened, and his face grew very red. "I... uh... you're welcome, Hermione. I can't think of any part of you being ugly at all..." He couldn't help but let his eyes drop down. "...especially not your body..."

"Huh?" Hermione looked down, and just then remembered she was topless. "Eep!" she squeaked, turning red and jumping back down onto the chair. "Um... Harry... let's just finish this, alright?"

They finally completed the procedure by late afternoon. They both washed up, got dressed and checked the map. It seemed like nobody had noticed they were missing. Most of the professors seemed to have left the castle, presumably back home, and the rest were in their offices or the staff room. They retrieved their trunks from the Chamber of Secrets, and then took the secret passage through the one-eyed witch to Hogsmeade. They were both excited to spend the rest of summer together and chatted during the entire walk. Madam Rosmerta was glad to lend them some Floo powder when they made an excuse about missing the train, and Hermione stepped into the fires first. It was only after Harry leapt into the flames that he realized he would be meeting with his girlfriend's parents, and all that would entail...

* * *

**Author's Chapter End notes:**

- this was one of my one-shot ideas, where I was trying to figure out how to throw in a "Declaration of love while they died a slow death" scene and still have the story continue.


	8. Summer With Grangers

**Author's Notes: **HP is JR's, etc.

- I was very tempted to title chapter 7 "Harry Dies." are you glad I didn't?

- I'm trying to be more consistent with the value of the Galleon. I've changed a previous chapter to reflect this, but in my story, a Galleon is worth about £100. This is mostly because of Ollivander's wand pricing. Think about it- here's a guy who makes his entire living selling wands. For the majority of the population, one wand is all they will ever have for their entire life. The wand is so important that snapping it is tantamount to losing their magic. Poorer families don't even buy new wands, and prefer to give their children poorly-matched hand-me-down wands. If those things are worth any less than £700 apiece, I'd say something's wrong. This also makes the knut worth about 20 pence, which is large enough to be useful while small enough to still be considered "pocket change."

Then there's the Triwizard Tournament prize. Why would you risk your life (for a year) in deadly competition for only £5000? Working a good part-time job for a year could get you that much. And how are you supposed to start a business with only that much? The twins opened up a shop in Diagon Alley. Not the poor, run-down, criminal-infested Knockturn Alley. Diagon Alley, the place where all the decent folk like to shop. I'd like to see anyone try to open up a store in downtown London with that little money. £5000 probably wouldn't even cover the first month's rent.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Summer with Grangers**

As Harry tumbled out of the fireplace, he thought of the importance of first impressions. As he lay on the floor covered in soot in a messy heap, he thought the first impressions the Grangers would have of him would not be good. He prayed that they hadn't noticed him like this, but those hopes were dashed when he heard Hermione's voice. "Mum, Dad, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter!"

Mrs. Granger seemed to be amused, while Mr. Granger was apparently having some reservations. Quickly getting up, Harry dusted himself off and held out his hand. _Don't act nervous, _he said to himself. _Stay calm, be confident..._"Hello Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger," he said in a flat monotone as he shook their hands. He knew he was utterly failing to impress Hermione's parents. To his surprise, Hedwig flew in at that moment to land on his shoulder. She hooted in greeting.

"So you're the one that owns this beautiful snowy owl," said Mrs. Granger. "She's remarkably intelligent, you know. My name's Emma, and this is Dan. Don't be afraid, we won't bite." She gave a welcoming smile. "Hermione's mentioned to us in her letters that there always seems to be a lot of excitement surrounding you. Would you care to explain?"

Harry looked at Hermione, who was standing behind her parents, shaking her head furiously. He looked back at Emma, and said, "Um... well, you see... I play Quidditch. I'm the seeker on the house team. It's the position that gets the most attention... so... um, things kind of get hectic around me." Hermione was nodding in approval in the background.

Dan Granger became a bit more interested with this. "Oh, it's a sport then? How often do you practice? And are you any good?" He was a bit more gruff when asking his questions, almost like it were an interrogation.

"Dan! Don't be so rough on the boy!" exclaimed Emma. "Sorry, but he's quite protective of our dear little Hermione." _He's not the only one_, thought Harry.

"I'm not little any more, mum!" Hermione complained.

"You'll always be our little Hermione as long as we live," said Emma, smiling.

While the two women were having their little argument, Harry decided that it was the best time to get on Mr. Granger's good side. "Well, to answer your questions, sir, um... Yes, Quidditch is the main sport for wizards. The practices change depending on the school schedules, but Captain Wood gets us out on the field about four times a week. And... well, I don't mean to brag, but I've only lost one game out of all the ones I've played so far. Our team won the Quidditch cup this year." Harry relaxed a bit, now that they were talking about a subject he could be rather confident about. Hedwig noted his tension fade and decided to be a little friendlier, as well. She nipped his ear, as if asking for an owl treat. Harry looked at her, and said, "Later, Hedwig! I'll buy you the freshest ones from Eeylops, alright?"

"Oh, don't be so modest, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, hopping over to his side. "He's the youngest seeker Hogwarts has ever had in a century! In fact, he's still the youngest player out of all the teams at Hogwarts!" she said, rather proudly.

"It looks like our Hermione has found herself quite an accomplished young man, hasn't she?" Emma whispered to her husband. Dan simply whispered back, "We'll see. He'd better not just be some jock type who's playing with her feelings."

Hermione led the way out of the Leaky Cauldron, and said to her parents, "Mom! Dad! Harry and I need to stop off at the bookstore to grab some textbooks before we head home... Is that alright?"

"Oh, we'll have to stop off at both the normal and the wizard banks, then. We didn't bring much cash with us..." said Emma.

"Don't inconvenience yourself, Mrs. Granger," said Harry. "I can just take some gold out of my account."

Dan replied, "Harry, we can't have you buying things for our daughter..." He was still looking at Harry questioningly.

"Oh, that's not it, Mr. Granger. The textbooks are for both of us. Hermione and I wanted to learn some more about things that the school doesn't teach, so we're going to study ourselves over the summer. It's as much for me as it is for her. My parents left me my trust account for my schooling, so it'll be fine." Harry explained. To be honest, he really wanted to get in their good graces as quickly as possible, and saw this as a way to do it.

"Well, Harry, just make sure you don't spend too much of your money. You need to have a budget, to take care of your finances," said Emma. "Textbooks aren't cheap. We don't want you to have to explain to your parents why you suddenly spent a good chunk of the money they're giving you."

Harry paused, wondering how he was going to explain his parenting situation. Hermione was giving him an apologetic look- it seemed she hadn't told her parents, and wasn't expecting the subject to come up, at least not in this manner. "Umm... I'll tell you about my parents later," said Harry. They made their way to Gringotts, and Harry told Hedwig to wait for him outside Eeylops. She took off when they stepped inside the bank. Dan and Emma followed Harry as he walked up to the counter.

"I'd like to make a withdrawal, please."

The goblin didn't bother looking up. "Name and vault?"

"Harry Potter. My vault number is... um... 687. Here's the key."

"Would you like to visit your vault or shall I make the withdrawal for you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked back at the Grangers. He remembered how uncomfortable the Weasleys were when they saw his vault, which was stacked with Galleons. Then again, the Grangers were both dentists, and were pretty well-off, but he wasn't trying to flaunt his wealth to them. He just needed a modest amount of money to get some books. "We'll wait here. I only need about fifty Galleons or so for today."

"Very well, Mr. Potter." The goblin took his key, and quickly left for the mine-carts. As he was watching the goblin hurry away, Harry got the feeling that he was being stared at. He turned around slowly. Hermione's parents were gaping at him.

"Harry, dear," Emma said slowly, with a look of concern on her face. "You did just withdraw fifty _Galleons_, didn't you? Not Sickles?"

Harry nodded. "Um... did I do something wrong?"

Emma hesitated. "Well, Harry, remember what I said about finances? How you should look after your money and make sure you don't spend too much of it too quickly?"

Harry nodded again. "Er... yes... I'm not taking too much out, am I? I've still got a lot more in my vault. I just wanted to make sure we had enough so we wouldn't have to come back again when we bought our books. I've never really learned much about money, but I'm careful to make sure I don't run out any time soon."

Emma stared at him. He seemed sincere about what he said. Turning back to her husband, she whispered to him, "What was the exchange rate again, Dan?"

Dan, still looking at Harry, said, "Just over 100 pounds to the galleon, I think. Did that kid just withdraw £ 5000 for _textbooks_?"

"He did say he knew he had a lot more. He didn't consider it very much money." Turning back to Harry, Emma said, "Harry, when that goblin gets back, perhaps you should ask him for a bank record? Perhaps a statement of your current accounts?"

Harry nodded. Clearly Hermione's parents were agitated by his actions, and he didn't want to do anything to upset them. After a few more minutes, the goblin returned with a sack of gold.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter. Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

"Err... yes, I'd like a statement of my current holdings."

"Very well, Mr. Potter. There is a transaction fee of one sickle for written copy of your current vault holdings, verified and authenticated by Gringotts of London. I'll need a drop of your blood."

"Yes, that will be fine," Harry replied. The goblin pricked his finger with a small needle and held it there until it turned bright red. When he withdrew the needle, Harry's finger didn't bleed. Two minutes later the goblin with two scrolls of parchment. Thanking the goblin, which elicited a small look of surprise, Harry and the Grangers sat down in the lobby. He unrolled the first parchment.

_Vault 687: Potter Trust Vault_

_Restrictions: Each child of the main branch may not withdraw more than 20% of the Vault's total holdings or 500 Galleons per year, whichever is lesser. Any withdrawal over 50 Galleons must be approved by the current head of house or family treasurer. Children of secondary branches must be approved by the current head of house to access the trust fund._

_Current Balance: 40,246 Galleons, 13 Sickles, 20 Knuts_

_Interest: Variable based on Gringotts Investments, Cautious growth._

_Recent transactions_

_Withdrawal: 1 Sickle_

_Withdrawal: 50 Galleons, 2 Knuts [Transaction fee: 2 Knuts]_

_Deposit: 169 Galleons, 14 Sickles, 2 Knuts [Interest]_

_Deposit: 167 Galleons, 16 Sickles, 4 Knuts [Interest]_

_Deposit: 166 Galleons, 8 Sickles, 19 Knuts [Interest]_

All the Grangers gaped. Hermione was staring at the statement. Doing some quick addition in her head, she said to Harry in awe, "You're earning about 2,000 Galleons a year on your account in _interest alone_, Harry."

Harry looked back at her. "Um... wait... so that means withdrawing 50 galleons isn't a problem, right?"

Emma was rubbing her temples, while Dan was still staring at the statement mumbling to himself. "Harry... well, I have to agree that's not an issue any more. Maybe we should talk about your finances later, when we get home, alright?"

Harry looked up at her and said, "Alright, Mrs. Granger. Thanks for taking the time to teach me these things. I never really had a chance to learn it from anyone. I just want to see what's written on this second scroll before we go." He unfurled the other scroll.

_Vault 39: Potter Family Vault__  
Restrictions: May only be accessed by Head of House Potter when he is of age._

_Current Balance: 4,163,846 Galleons, 11 Sickles, 10 Knuts_

_Interest: Variable based on Gringotts Investments, Aggressive growth_

_Recent transactions_

_Deposit: 37,760 Galleons, 4 Sickles, 22 Knuts [Interest]_

_Deposit: 25,246 Galleons, 2 Sickles, 3 Knuts [Interest]_

_Depost: 40,465 Galleons, 10 Sickles, 6 Knuts [Interest]_

The list continued. Emma nearly fainted. Dan suddenly seemed to be looking at him with greater approval. Hermione was hyperventilating. "Four... maybe five hundred thousand Galleons in interest per year... Oh my god, Harry, I had no idea you were this rich."

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well, let's just get the textbooks and we can discuss this back at home." Hermione nodded in agreement, and dragged her shocked parents out of the bank. Harry followed closely behind.

They made their way to Flourish & Blott's, where Hermione expertly navigated the huge stacks of books around the store. She practically dove into a large, old stack of books at the back of the store, rummaging around for several minutes before coming up with several books: Mild Mental Meditations, Safely Stowing Secrets: Locking Your Mind, and Intruder Beware: Mental Snares. "These are books to help us learn Occlumency, Harry." She shoved them into his arms, and quickly ran back to another stack of books. After another few minutes, she had picked out Trust and Truth: Know Your Enemies and Detecting Deceit. "And these ones are for Legilimency." She stacked them on top of the ones Harry was already holding, and then rushed off to another part of the store. She was much quicker this time, as this section was neatly organized into shelves. She pulled out Your Inner Animal: The Path to the Animagusand Bring out the Beast . "And we can learn to be Animagi as well! These were the books that Sirius recommended. Is there anything else?"

Harry didn't quite want to carry many more books, but he did have one thing he wanted to read over the summer. "Are there any good books on duelling, Hermione?" So far, in every fight, he had been relying purely on instinct. He knew he would have to actually know what he was doing, even if he couldn't actually practice during the summer.

"Oh, of course!" Once again, Hermione was off like a shot to another corner of the store, and returned with The Dueller's Arsenal I: Fundamentals of Fighting and The Dueller's Arsenal II: Speedy Spellcasting and Cunning Combinations. "That should be enough reading for summer, right, Harry?"

Harry was nearly losing his balance with the stack of texts, and his arms were getting very tired. How did Hermione do this? Lightening charms? But if she had been like this even before discovering she was a witch... well, that explained where she got her exercise. They made their way to the front counter, where Mr. Blotts eyed them curiously while ringing up the books. "Four Galleons and ten Sickles, please." Harry paid for them all, and Hermione shoved the books into Harry's trunk, since hers was full of books already.

After they were done, they went over to Eeylops, where Hedwig was waiting for them. Harry ran inside to quickly buy some own treats, as well as some owl care products like feather wash and a talon file. He immediately gave Hedwig a handful of treats when he got back outside. He asked Hedwig, "Would you rather ride with us in the car, or fly to Hermione's house on your own?" With a dignified hoot in response, Hedwig took off.

Upon exiting Diagon Alley, Hermione's parents led the way to their car, which was a fairly large, comfortable Mercedes. Harry and Hermione jumped into the back seat. Feeling tired from their day of endless activity, they were already asleep before they even left London.

Upon their arrival in Southampton, Mrs. Granger smiled at the pair. The two of them seemed to have gravitated towards each other in their sleep and were leaning across the center seat. Hermione's head was resting on Harry's shoulder. "Dan! Look at this! Aren't they simply adorable?"

Dan Granger would have agreed if, say, Harry was his own son. But Harry wasn't. Harry was a boy his dear little Hermione had brought back home with her. He was a boy she seemed to enjoy holding hands with very much- and he seemed to enjoy it just as much. He couldn't let himself agree that they did, in fact, look absolutely adorable, or else he'd be going easy on Harry, and he certainly couldn't do that.

"Don't wake them... let me get the camera first!" whispered Emma. She dashed into the house, bringing back the camera and clambered quietly into the front seat of the car. Holding the camera right in front of the two children, she snapped a perfect photo. The flash woke the two of them up.

"Mum! What did you do that for?" Hermione cried.

"You two looked so cute! I couldn't resist. I'm adding this one to the photo album for sure." Emma grinned and ran back into the house. Hermione chased after her, leaving Harry staring at Dan.

"Come on, Harry, let's move these trunks inside," said Dan. Harry obediently grabbed the trunks and unloaded them from the car. Dan took Hermione's in, while Harry dragged his own towards the house. Looking around, he could tell he was in a much more affluent neighbourhood than the Dursleys'. The houses were much larger and many of them had well-trimmed hedges surrounding the yards. As he walked up to the front door, he noticed that the Grangers also kept their lawn neatly trimmed and weed-free. Hermione greeted Harry right when he stepped inside.

"Harry! Follow me! I'll show you around!" Hermione led Harry around her house, first pointing out the need-to-know rooms: bathrooms, kitchen, dining room, and the guest room where he would be staying. Right across the hall was Hermione's room. She seemed a little hesitant to show Harry inside, but relented when he gave his promise not to laugh. Harry was unsure of what she could be embarrassed about. As expected, inside her room was her bed, a large desk, several bookshelves full of books, a large, padded basket for Crookshanks to sleep in, and... teddy bears?

Harry was somewhat surprised and relieved to see Hermione's girly side express itself in her room. _I wonder if she likes hugging her teddy bears a lot, _Harry speculated. _Maybe that's why she likes giving hugs so much._ He grinned at Hermione. "That's a nice collection of teddy bears you've got there."

Hermione put her hands on her hips, and said with some annoyance, "Harry! You promised you wouldn't laugh!"

Harry replied with a perfectly straight face, "I'm not laughing, Hermione! I like this side of you. I think it's... cute."

"You... do? Really?"

"Yeah. I'm glad you let me know you better, Hermione. It means a lot to me. Can I... hold one of your bears?"

Hermione boggled at the idea of a teenage boy wanting to play with one of her teddy bears. "Um... sure, Harry... but why?"

"Well... I heard a lot about them, but I never had one when I was growing up, so I just wanted to know what it feels like to hold one of them," Harry answered, rather embarrassed.

Hermione suddenly remembered Harry's neglected childhood and felt the sorrow well up inside of her. She grabbed a big, furry, brown, and slightly worn teddy bear off the head of her bed and gave it to Harry. "Here, Harry. Take Mr. Fuzzybum. He's been my favourite bear ever since I was little. Give him a hug."

Harry gave Mr. Fuzzybum a tight squeeze. The soft, warm fabric of the bear made him very comfortable and relaxed. "I like him, Hermione. He smells like you," said Harry. He didn't notice Hermione blush, as he had closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations the teddy bear was giving him all the more.

Hermione saw how relaxed Harry was when he hugged the bear. In some ways, he was a little childish- no, that wasn't right. He was making up for the childhood he never had. Hermione stepped behind him and squeezed Harry and Mr. Fuzzybum in a tight hug. She gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek and said to him, "Why don't you sleep with him tonight, Harry? It'll be the closest thing to being with me..." she suggested.

Harry tilted his head back and looked at Hermione. "I... umm... are you sure? I mean..."

"Just say yes, Harry."

"Yes. Thank you, Hermione."

That night, Harry dreamed the most beautiful dreams he ever had. With Hermione's aroma filling every breath, and the teddy bear's fur tickling his skin the way Hermione's hair did, he could honestly say he had never had a happier night's rest.

* * *

The next day, the entire family had gathered in the living room. They went over house rules, schedules, and outlined daily chores for the two kids. Harry was rather surprised at the extremely small, and simple, list of chores he had to do compared to what went on at the Dursleys. He could easily finish all of them in less than an hour. At the end of the meeting, however, Emma brought up an unfortunate subject. "Harry, why don't you give your parents a phone call to let them know you're doing alright here?"

Harry drew a sharp breath. Hermione placed her hand on his lap to reassure him. She leaned over and whispered, "I think you should tell them. Don't be afraid, Harry."

Harry nodded, and said, "Um... Well, my parents died when I was a baby... I've been living with my Aunt and Uncle."

Emma gasped, and quickly knelt down in front of Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry. I had no idea!"

Dan, however, furrowed his brow, noticing Harry's attitude change. He seemed to have come to terms with his parents' death long ago... that wasn't the real issue here. He crossed his arms, and asked, "You don't want us to contact them, do you? Are you running away from home?"

Hermione jumped to his defense. "Dad! They're horrible people! They treat Harry like a slave around the house, and they hate him just because he's a wizard! You can't possibly make him go back there!"

Dan had rarely ever seen Hermione become so passionate about anything. In fact, she was always a good girl, following the rules, respecting her elders- but the letter she wrote to them said that Harry had permission to stay over for the summer. For the first time in his memory, Hermione had lied to them. _So why did it have to be for the sake of a boy? _he thought, sighing. "I'm sorry, honey. They're his legal guardians. They need to know where he is. In fact, they could be calling the police and filing a missing-child report."

Harry almost laughed at that. "I doubt it. They'll be glad I'm gone... the only thing they'll miss about me is that I won't be doing all the work around the house."

Dan was still trying to figure out Harry. _He couldn't be running away from home just because of some chores, _he thought. _Heck, he seemed relieved when we gave him the list of summer chores to do. Hermione says he works pretty hard at school, too. We'll have to get to the bottom of this._ He asked Harry, "Well, I'll still have to talk to them. What's the phone number?"

Harry said, meekly, "Um... I don't know." Seeing the doubt in Dan's eyes, he continued. "They never let me use the telephone, and they told me they didn't want to be bothered by me when I was out of the house, so they never let me know the phone number." He could tell that Dan was shocked at the information, but still held some doubt, thinking it might have been a lie to avoid letting him call the Dursleys. Harry told Dan what he knew. "I don't know the whole mailing address, but they live at Number 4, Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey. Oh, and they're the Dursleys. My uncle is Vernon Dursley."

Dan seemed satisfied with that answer. "I can look up his number with that information. I think I'll make the call now." When he finally found the number, the rest of them listened in to the conversation.

"Hello? My name is Daniel Granger, could I speak to Mr. Dursley please? Yes... mhm... Mr. Dursley, I'm calling to tell you that a boy by the name of Harry Potter is staying over... what did you just call him? No, I don't... my daughter, yes. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? If you DARE speak like that to me or my family again, I swear..." He looked at the receiver, then turned around and saw everyone staring at him. "Well, that was easily the most unpleasant man I've ever had the misfortune of talking to. Harry, I'm sorry for doubting you, but you're welcome to stay at our house this summer."

Harry and Hermione both cheered and hugged each other. They never guessed it would have been so easy to get the parents' permission.

* * *

They spent most of their days studying together, cuddled in each other's arms while Hermione's parents were at work. As soon as they heard a car pull up, however, they would break apart instantly, and they just acted like good friends for the rest of the day. Neither was sure whether or not the parents suspected, but they had a feeling the jig would be up eventually- possibly before summer ended.

Aside from their magical studies, Hermione took the time to help educate Harry on Muggle science. Not too surprisingly, she had already completed her high school education last summer, so she tutored Harry with what she knew- and she knew quite a bit. Harry was in awe, but then again, she had only found out about the magical world when she turned eleven, and then came to school already knowing more about casting spells than most of the pure-blooded first years.

They decided on a schedule for the rest of summer with mornings spent on scientific education, and the afternoons were spent on magical.

On the magical side, they began with one of the Legilimency texts. Since it was a wandless type of magic, they could practice it over the summer without getting any annoying owls from the Ministry. At first, they were both hesitant to invade each other's mental privacy, but they also both agreed that the skill was necessary to further develop each other's Occlumency as well, and they both trusted each other enough that they knew they wouldn't use anything they saw against each other. Hermione, being the quicker learner of the two, decided to dive into Harry's mind first. Harry focused on his image of the empty sky while looking straight into Hermione's eyes.

"_Legilimens," _whispered Hermione. Harry immediately felt a presence, but after a few seconds, she quickly stopped, losing her balance.

"Hermione! What's wrong?" asked Harry, as he cradled her.

"Um... you know I'm afraid of heights... and I just wasn't prepared to be so high up when I entered your mind..." said Hermione sheepishly. "Let me try again. _Legilimens,_" she repeated.

This time, Harry could sense something poking from below the clouds. "Hermione?" he asked. "Is that you?"

"Err... I think so," said Hermione. "Let's test this out. Um... try to hide your memory of our first kiss."

"Wait, which first kiss?" asked Harry. Unfortunately, the very mention of the act brought the memories to the forefront of his mind. Hermione saw each one of the times he had accidentally "kissed" her along with the one he gave after his "test" of the blood runes.

"Harry! I told you those two didn't count!" she shouted. She paused, and then added, "...and you need more work on keeping your memories hidden, too."

Harry decided to return the favour. When he entered Hermione's mind, all he saw was darkness. "Wow, Hermione. What is this?"

"It's the deep sea. I got the idea from some documentaries. No sunlight can reach this depth so it's pretty much pitch black."

"You're going to have to show that to me sometime. Now, try to hide your memory of the sunset above the Burrow." He smirked, knowing Hermione really treasured that memory.

Just like Harry, Hermione failed to _not_ think about it the moment he said it. Harry caught glimpses of her perspective, and her emotions, during the lessons. "Looks like you need to work on your shields, too, Hermione." He grinned. "Oh... I had no idea you enjoyed them _that_ much, love. I promise, I'll give you more 'lessons' when we get back to school, alright?" Hermione blushed, and bit her lower lip seductively. She made him seal his promise with a kiss.

* * *

The occlumency textbooks were extremely helpful. They could only do so much on their own, and the books suggested things neither one thought of before. They learned a few new meditation techniques, and experimented for a few weeks to see which ones worked best for each of them. Hermione really enjoyed doing her meditation while relaxing in the bath, and was now prone to taking much longer each night to wash up than before. Harry tried out a sensory deprivation exercise and found it worked extremely well for him.

The next two textbooks both suggested imagining powerful, but simple, defences to shield their memories. Ideally, it had to be unbreakable, without being complex. The second one suggested something more devious, in placing a decoy fortress within their mindscape, which stored trivial memories, so an attacker would waste a lot of time attempting to break their defences and receive nothing in return.

A few weeks later, just before Harry's birthday, they had their basic schemes set up. Neither one really had any good defences, as it still took a lot of concentration keeping their memories divided into two locations within their minds. Once again, Hermione entered Harry's mind first to take a look around.

"Well, this seems a little cliché. A flying castle?" asked Hermione.

"I got the idea from the cover of one of your books, Hermione," retorted Harry.

"You didn't have to make it shaped like Hogwarts, though," she said. "You might be familiar with Hogwarts, but so are the thousands of other people who had years of schooling there."

"Alright, I'll change it. Maybe I'll make it a UFO or something and fill it with little green men." said Harry.

"Oh, I'd like to see Professor Snape try to take on some Martians. This is your decoy fortress though, isn't it? I can't seem to find your real one... come on, give me a hint, Harry," Hermione said, rather frustrated.

"Go up," was all he said.

"What? There's nothing up higher than your flying castle up here... not even any clouds. It's just the sky, and... Ohhh, I get it," she smiled. "You're hiding your memories in the sun? That's great, Harry. It's always there, but nobody ever really notices it..."

"I'm glad you approve. Now it's my turn," he said.

Entering Hermione's mind, he saw exactly the same thing as he did before- complete blackness. "Uh... a little help?" he asked.

"You're just going to have to feel your way around with your other senses," Hermione said, smirking.

Harry "felt" his way around Hermione's mindscape until he sensed something moving in the water. He chased after it for several minutes, only to come across an enormous squid, tentacles poised to strike at him. "Gah!" he cried. "You're making me work this hard for your _decoy_ memories? This is your decoy, isn't it?"

Hermione grinned. "Yup. I'll give you a hint for my real ones, though. It's the opposite of what you did."

Harry thought for a moment, and then plunged downwards. Deeper and deeper he went, until finally, he hit the seafloor, which was solid. In fact, it was much more solid than, well, dirt or rock should have been. Harry laughed. "Wait... you're telling me that your mindscape is one of the deepest parts of the ocean, but you still bury your memories under the ground?"

"Well, it's not that obvious, is it?" retorted Hermione. "Actually, it's much deeper than that. You remember our geology lessons, right? I decided to stick my memories under a lot of magma. I figured Wizards would never really know enough about the Earth's crust and inner layers to figure out how deep down they have to go. Where did you get the idea for the Sun?"

"You taught it to me. I also kind of figured wizards don't know much about the sun, either. Muggle astronomy seems to be so much more advanced than Wizarding astronomy, although all the horoscopes are completely inaccurate..."

They both laughed, realizing how incorporating muggle sciences could help make their magic that much stronger.

* * *

They continued with their animagus training after they had established a stronger foundation in occlumency. They realized that, technically, Sirius hadn't sent Harry his birthday gift yet this time around. They pored over the two animagus books for the week leading up to Harry's birthday, combining some of the meditation exercises with their occlumency meditation. Harry was having an easier time feeling his instincts- throughout most of their adventures over the years, Harry had been running on emotions, whereas Hermione always seemed to manage to keep a level head, which was apparently hindering her progress. She was already skilled at controlling her emotions before occlumency, but the problem was with letting go of that control.

One of the books suggested that they associate a memory or a situation with a very basic, animalistic feeling. Simple joy, sadness, aggression, fear. Harry knew what brought the most joy in his life right now- it was Hermione. Seeing her smile, making her smile, giving her kisses and hugs, or simply being near her while they sat silently and studied. He could feel happiness and love right down to his very core when he thought of her. But sadness? What made him really sad? The Dursleys? Maybe years ago, but he knew now he only had to deal with them for two months out of the year. It was more frustration than sadness now. His mind floated over to the time when he was dying of Basilisk poison, and Hermione in tears in front of him. She was incredibly fearful, angry, and sad... and it made him sad, as well. He never wanted to see her like that again. Even worse, _he_ was the one that caused that anguish in her. He never wanted to do that to her again. What about fear? And anger? He realized he was feeling both at the same time the night of the World Cup, seeing Hermione unconscious, he feared for her life, and he wanted to utterly_destroy_ the ones who had done that to her. Hermione. All of his deepest, innermost feelings, revolved around her, he suddenly realized.

"Ummm... Harry?" Hermione held his face with both hands on his cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Harry opened his eyes, and realized he was leaning on Hermione. "What? What _was_ I doing?"

"You were... um... rubbing your cheeks against me," said Hermione. "Not that I didn't enjoy it, you know. But it just seemed to come out of nowhere. And I think you were sniffing, too. You might have been about to nibble on me."

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed. "I... uh... um... well, I think I found the key to my animagus meditation. Or maybe I didn't, but I discovered something important, anyways."

"Really?" asked Hermione excitedly. "Did you discover your form? Can you tell me what it is? How did you do it?"

"Oh... no, I didn't discover my form. I... uh... discovered you, Hermione," Harry said, timidly.

"Me? You discovered me? What do you mean by that?"

"Well... I discovered that... all my deepest emotions... happiness, sadness, anger, fear... they all revolve around you, Hermione. You make me happy, and I'm sad if you're unhappy, I get angry when others try to hurt you, and I'm afraid... of losing you. I feel everything more strongly when it involves you," he said.

Hermione squealed, tackling Harry to the floor again. "Oh, Harry! You have no idea how romantic you just were, do you? I'm going to have to think of you myself... after I finish snogging you silly, that is."

* * *

On Harry's birthday, he received very nearly the same letters as he did last time around- except Ron wasn't quite as friendly, and just sent his usual box of chocolate frogs instead of the Quidditch statistics book. Hermione and her parents took him out to a restaurant and had celebrated with cheesecake. Knowing that Harry had already finished reading the curse-breaker book she gave him his last birthday around, she bought him The World's Wildest Wardsthis time around, detailing some of the most intricate and advanced warding schemes, both modern and ancient. Sadly to say, the most advanced warding schemes were also the least detailed, because the owners didn't want to give up many of their secrets to the authors. It was still a very interesting and inspiring read, and Harry nearly thanked Hermione with a kiss until he remembered they were in front of her parents, and he settled on a hug.

That evening, he was hit with a vision of Voldemort once again- being better prepared for it, he focused on remembering the ritual Voldemort was performing, the markings on the ground, the smell of the potions. He could glean very little more information, though. It seemed that Voldemort had finished the preparations before the vision began, and didn't spend much more time looking at it. Afterwards, he still sent word to Dumbledore, but received the same unhelpful reply.

The rest of summer passed by without much fanfare. They exchanged a few letters with Ron that summer, who seemed rather miffed that Harry hadn't woken him up in time to pack, but Harry decided to mention that Neville, Dean, and Seamus had all tried to wake him, too. Ron, apparently had to Floo home from McGonagall's office, so he never noticed they weren't on the train, either. Ron was just as excited as before to invite them over to the World Cup, and Harry and Hermione debated whether or not they should go. They knew there was going to be an attack, but Harry also knew that Cedric didn't seemed to be destined to suffer any harm, and nor would the Weasleys, in the attack. They turned down the invitation, which, according to the twins' letter a few days later, left him catatonic for at least twelve hours as he couldn't comprehend anyone who would turn down free tickets to the World Cup.

Instead, Harry decided to thank the Grangers for having him over the summer by treating them to dinner at an expensive waterfront restaurant with a fantastic view. They were reluctant to have him pay, but Harry insisted, especially since he knew he was filthy rich and the Grangers were some of the nicest people he had ever met in his life, and he just had to thank them for their hospitality. When they got home, Harry surprised them with an owl. It was a long-eared owl of moderate size, strong enough to handle small parcels as well as letters. "Her name is Kerris. I've also bought you a year's worth of food, treats, an indoor stand and outdoor stand, and a cage for transportation. Now you can send letters to Hermione whenever you want!"

For the first time all summer, both Dan and Emma hugged Harry.

* * *

The day before they were to leave for London, Dan and Emma were talking in hushed whispers down the hall to Hermione's room.

"We should do it now, Dan."

"What? What makes you think she's going to... I mean, she's a smart girl, and she's only fourteen!"

"Nearly fifteen, Dan. And a lot can happen in a year. You saw how close they were already this summer. In fact, they were probably hiding a lot more from us."

Dan's eyes widened. He was always protective of Hermione, but the idea of her trying to deceive him was new. "You're right. In fact, they live in the same dormitory at school, don't they?" He sighed. "Do you want to do it, or should I?"

"I'll do it, Dan. The two of us can have a little girl-chat afterwards, as well. Maybe I can get some more details about Harry, too."

Emma walked down the hall and knocked on Hermione's door. "Hermione? Can I come in?"

"Sure, come on in, mum."

Hermione was, as usual, meditating while sitting on her bed, like she did every night. Emma walked in and sat down beside her.

"Hermione, I want to talk to you about... um... your relationship with Harry."

Hermione opened her eyes. "You like him, don't you? He's such a great friend..." she began.

"Oh, no, no, honey. It's not that we... disapprove. It's... well, we're worried that you'll be gone all year, and... that your relationship will develop further. We want to make sure you know what you could be getting into..." she tried to explain it slowly.

"Oh, you mean sex? Don't worry, mum. Harry won't push me that quickly. We both love each other and he'd never try to push me further than I'm comfortable," Hermione was grinning mischievously.

Emma was taken aback. "Oh... alright, so I don't have to explain about that... I'm glad you two can trust each other. When did you learn about it? Anyways... um... if you do, you still need to make sure you're using protection..." she continued.

"I learned this stuff when I finished Biology last summer, mum. And don't worry about STDs or pregnancy. There's several spells that protect against disease and pregnancy, and they're all more reliable than condoms or birth control pills. I've already got my Hep A and B shots when I was in school. I actually got my HPV vaccine at the doctor this summer, too. And after all that, magical potions can cure nearly everything short of AIDS. They might have a cure for that too, I'll have to look it up."

"Oh... well then... thank you honey. What's the HPV vaccine, by the way?"

"It's a new vaccine, it helps against the Human papillomavirus, which can cause cervical cancer. It's good for younger girls to get it."

"Oh... thank you, honey. That was most informative." Emma walked out of the room, shaking her head. Weren't the education supposed to go the other way around?

* * *

**Author's Chapter End notes:**

- I know the HPV vaccine didn't come out in 1994, it's actually a very recent development, came out in 2006 i think. Still, I think people (especially teenage girls) should know about it and get it. Why not have useful information in a fanfic, after all?


	9. Back to Hogwarts

**Author's Note: **Harry Potter isn't mine, etc.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Back to Hogwarts**

On September 1st, they packed their trunks into the car early in the day and drove into London. They wanted to be earlier than usual so they could have a nice, casual brunch near King's Cross right before boarding the train. When they finished, they gave their goodbye hugs before crossing the barrier into Platform 9¾.

Inside, they were expecting to see a crowd of red hair somewhere on the platform. They searched around for several minutes until they heard a familiar, commanding voice come from behind them. "Come on, boys. Fred, George, if I hear about a single one of your 'candies' at Hogwarts, you can bet you'll be hearing from me! Ron, stop dallying already, we're nearly about to miss the train! Ginny, do be a dear and hold on to Pig, will you?" They turned around to see Molly Weasley was ushering the family onto the platform.

"Hi, everyone!" Both of them greeted the Weasleys cheerfully, glad to see none of them were hurt in the World Cup attack. Ron, finally noticing Harry, rushed up to him.

"Harry, mate! You won't believe what happened at the game! I don't know if you heard, but..." Harry and Hermione braced themselves for the news of the attack. "...Krum caught the snitch, but they still lost! Ireland's chasers were amazing!"

Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George all gaped at him. "Only our ickle Ronnikins..." began George.

"...could talk about the game..." continued Fred.

"even after a Death Eater attack," the twins finished together.

"Well, it's not like anybody got hurt," Ron grumbled. "We didn't even see any of them. People screamed and we were already two steps away from the emergency Portkey station."

"We thought Harry might be a little more interested in a story that he couldn't just read off of the Daily Prophet," said George.

"What are you two talking about? The attack was reported in the paper, wasn't it?" asked Ron, somewhat unsure as he never did read the newspaper voluntarily.

"Ah, but not a first-hand tale..."

"...of fear, horror..."

"...excitement, bravery..."

"...and a death-defying escape from a Death Eater attack!" they cried with a flourish.

"I just said that nothing like that happened!" Ron was clearly getting riled by the twins' antics.

"That's why we called it a _story_, Ron," said George, rolling his eyes.

"Little Ronnie here never had an appreciation for the finer arts," Fred whispered loudly. Harry and Hermione, who had a very good idea of what happened, laughed as they all boarded the train.

* * *

The discussion about the World Cup went on for a while into the train ride, where Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville shared a cabin. Ron showed off a little Viktor Krum figurine he bought as a souvenir. Neville warned him to keep it hidden from Seamus, who was as fanatic about the Irish national team as Ron was about the Chudley Cannons. They were interrupted by their cabin door opening with Draco Malfoy standing at the entrance. Predictably, he sneered at them, saying, "Well, isn't that cute. That's the closest you'll ever come to meeting your idol, Weasley."

"Oh yeah? It's not as if you're ever going to meet him either, Malfoy," Ron shot back.

"Hah! I met him at the World Cup before the game. My father knows the manager and he introduced us to the entire team." Malfoy was obviously enjoying lording this little event over Ron's head. "Well, when he's over here this year, he certainly won't be sitting with the _Gryffindors_. The Durmstrang school has a much more _selective_ policy for accepting students."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, knowing what Malfoy was hinting at. There would be some sort of tournament this year... oddly enough, neither one could remember the name of it now, although they were sure they had come across those memories at some point during their Occlumency exercises. Harry decided to goad some more information out of the little Slytherin, hoping it would help jog his memory. "And why would he be visiting Hogwarts, Malfoy?" he asked in the most polite tone he could muster.

Draco scoffed, "Well, obviously a half-breed like you wouldn't know. This is a noble and traditional event that's being revived this year." Harry sighed internally. How long was Malfoy going to drag this out?

"Well, that's why we're asking you, Malfoy," said Harry through gritted teeth.

Draco lifted his nose a bit higher and leered at them. He was obviously enjoying the fact that he (finally) had something to lord over them. "It's the Triwizard Tournament, of course," he said, as if it were common knowledge. "But the likes of you need not apply. Only the _worthy_ are allowed to compete."

The Triwizard Tournament. The name struck a chord in Harry... it was definitely familiar. He'd been there- multiple times, in fact. _Oh nuts,_ he thought, _I'll be competing in it whether I want to or not. I'm sure I must have tried not to participate in one of my past lives._ Another unclear memory, or emotion, popped up. _Cedric! That's why I was worried about him. _Try as he might, he still couldn't recall exactly what was going on, but once again, the ideas of portkeys, victory, Cedric, and danger felt intertwined. Did he have to stop Cedric from winning? Hopefully, he'd be able to figure it out in due course. For now, he'd received all the information he really needed from Malfoy, and didn't want to spend another minute with the spoiled, blonde brat. He replied dismissively, "...and somehow you think you're worthy, Malfoy?"

Draco huffed at the implied insult. "You think you could do better than me, Potter? You wouldn't even be able..."

Hermione cut him off. "No, you arrogant brat, he's saying that there's no chance in hell that you'll ever be picked when you're up against any of the seventh-years in this school. You're just a fourth year, and not even top in the class."

Draco, obviously agitated, fell back to his usual insults. "I didn't ask you, mudblood! _When_ I'm entered in the competition, my father will know..."

Hermione knew he was going to say something like that. She laughed, saying, "Unless this Triwizard Tournament is a letter-writing competition, Malfoy, you have no chance of winning." The rest of the cabin laughed with her, as Draco stormed off. Ron shut and locked the door behind him.

"That was brilliant, Hermione. I almost wish he did get picked for the competition, just so we could watch him fail," said Ron.

Neville nodded in agreement. "Well, we really don't have anything to worry about. There's really no point in us entering, to be honest. It'll probably only be the sixth seventh years who are strong enough to do it, and even then only the ones at the top of their year would have a chance."

They quickly fell into a discussion over who were likely candidates from Hogwarts. While Ron and Neville were talking, Harry whispered to Hermione, "Did you have trouble remembering until Malfoy mentioned the tournament, too?"

"Yes... it seems like the information we got out of the original beacon is getting less and less clear. I mean, I remember us _talking _about those memories our first trip around. You mentioned it by name, even. Harry, do you remember anything about the upcoming year?"

"Something... at the end of the year, I think. We talked about it when we went to Hogsmeade together, I remember that. Voldemort came back, I'm sure of it."

"It's the same thing for me! I remember us discussing those memories after we activated the beacon, but now I can barely remember what those memories were. How about fifth year?"

Harry shook his head. "I still remember something them. Nothing specific, though. It feels more like an hour after waking up and trying to remember the dream. I know I had it, but I can't remember for the life of me. Do you know why?"

"I'm guessing it has to do with the new beacon. The present memory 'dominates,' so it's easier to remember the immediate past, but I think it might be overwriting the memories that were sent back with the original beacon. How many times have we used the new beacon so far?"

"Twice, right? Once with the World Cup, and another time testing the emergency runes..."

"And the new beacon actually counts and keeps track of how many times we've used it. I think we went back three times with the first beacon, right? I'm forgetting huge chunks of things I'm pretty sure I remembered when we talked about it in Hogsmeade. The only things I remember for sure are the ones I went back packed in occlumency capsules," she replied.

Neville, apparently, overheard something. "Did you mention occlumency? You're learning it? My Gran said something about it helping me get over my nervousness, but continued in the same breath that I wouldn't have the talent for it."

Harry looked at Hermione, who gave him a "finish it later in private" look, and then nodded to Neville. "Yeah, it's something we decided to practice over the summer. You know, it'll help you in Snape's classes. I think the reason why he always knows exactly what to do to scare you is because he's using legilimency."

Neville gaped. "What? How do you know? How often does he do it?"

Harry shrugged. "He tried it on me once, after Sirius Black escaped. He blamed be for it, and I think he was pretty angry and careless, because I could feel him in my mind that day. It's the only time I ever felt his presence, but if he's more subtle normally then I wouldn't know. Hermione and I have been practicing occlumency ever since."

Hermione added, "Would you like us to teach you?"

Before Neville could answer, Ron blurted out, "Hey! You're going to teach me too, right?"

Hermione admitted to herself that she deliberately ignored Ron, given how quickly he had blown off the training during the World Cup. _Well, I'll give him one more chance, now that the World Cup excitement is over_, she thought. "Of course I'll teach you, Ron, if you're willing to learn." She glanced at Harry when she said the second part. "We can start with the basics right now if you to want."

Neville and Ron both nodded.

"Well, to begin, close your eyes and think of some place that keeps you calm and comfortable. It should be tranquil, quiet, and very simple for you to imagine and remember every detail," Hermione explained.

"Uh... could I get an example?" asked Neville.

"Sure, Nev. I use the sky, above the clouds. There's nothing above, and it's endless clouds below so I don't think about the ground." He didn't bother mentioning the fact that, by now, he had added a giant spaceship hovering in the middle, inspired greatly by Dan Granger's collection of Star Wars and Star Trek videos.

"Hm... could I use my greenhouse? I tend to my plants there in the summer just to get my mind off things."

This took Harry by surprise. Neville had always been fairly good at Herbology, but he wasn't aware he had a greenhouse at home. It certainly explained his very natural talent, though. "Sure, that should work pretty well. Now just focus on it and get rid of anything else, all your memories and emotions. Use it to keep your mind completely calm and blank. You'll eventually be turning this into a map of your mind."

Turning to Ron, he asked, "What image are you using, Ron?"

Just like before, Ron answered, "The Quidditch pitch! Innit obvious?"

Hermione sighed. "No, Ron. That's not a good image for you. You love Quidditch, don't you?" Ron nodded. "And it makes you excited every time you go to the pitch, doesn't it?" Ron nodded again, as if he was doing very well. "Ron, excitement is the complete opposite of calm. Pick something else." Ron's face fell.

A few minutes later, Ron spoke up again. "Alright, how about the library?"

"Why'd you pick the library?" asked Hermione.

"Well, because it's the opposite of the Quidditch pitch, innit? It's boring," Ron said simply.

"Ron..." Hermione let out a slow sigh. "Let me explain. You don't like being in the library, do you?" Ron shook his head. "And you'd rather leave than hang around, right?" Ron nodded. "Ron, that just means it's a place where you're not comfortable." Hermione massaged her temples. Could Ron ever possibly work himself into an emotionless state if he couldn't even figure out what he was feeling himself? This would be an uphill battle, and she didn't even know if the prize was worth it. By the end of the train ride, she still wasn't quite sure whether or not Ron had found a suitable mindscape, while Neville was able to clear his mind fairly adequately.

* * *

The welcoming feast proceeded as usual- the hat sang its song, the first years were sorted, food was served. Looking over to the Slytherin tables, Harry noticed Malfoy was acting as arrogant as ever. He was probably boasting about the Triwizard tournament, and how he would enter the competition. Harry also noticed that Malfoy seemed to be facing away from the older Slytherins, perhaps to avoid annoying those who were actually more powerful than him.

Dumbledore stood up and waited until the hubbub died down in the Great Hall. "So!" he began, "now that your stomachs are sated and your thirst is quenched, I have a few announcements to make. First is Mr. Filch's list of banned items, which has expanded again this year to include..." He made his customary speech, but one announcement made the entire room gasp in shock. "Quidditch will be cancelled this year. In its place, a much more exciting event will be taking its place."

"Wha coo be more 'iting than uidditch?" mumbled Ron, with his mouth full. Evidently, he hadn't stopped eating when Dumbledore had called for attention.

"The Triwizard Tournament, Ron," answered Neville. "Malfoy only told us a few hours ago, have you forgotten already?"

"The Triwizard Tournament!" announced Dumbledore. "For the first time in over two hundred years, the international competition between the three largest magical schools in Europe will be held, and we have the honour of hosting it. I ask that all the students of Hogwarts show the greatest hospitality to our guests from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute, who will be staying with us for the duration of the year. Further details about the tournament will be given in two weeks, when the other students arrive. For now, you can read more about it in our school library."

The Great Hall once again burst into chatter, many of the voices confused, some of them excited. Dumbledore raised his hand, and it took another minute for the babbling to quiet down once again.

"Due to our hosting the tournament this year, there will be many visits from Ministry officials and other professionals who will be setting up the various events throughout the year. Please show these hardworking men and women where the bathrooms are, because I certainly had a hard time of it when I began at Hogwarts, myself. I never did manage to find the extremely large one with no less than a hundred chamber-pots..." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and gave a stern look at Dumbledore.

"Yes... well, there is one new face that you can expect to see all year. I have found a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who will pull double duty as head of security for the tournament as well. Allow me to introduce to you... Professor Alastor Moody!"

_Clink-tak- clink-tak- clink-tak_ came from the opening of the Great Hall. The sound came from a man with both a metallic leg and a wooden cane. He also had an obviously false eye, which was darting back and forth between everyone in the Great Hall. Harry noticed it seemed to fix on him a little longer than everyone else. His face was so scarred that he'd probably look more human with a leather mask on. He paused at the Slytherin table, eyeing many of the students and gave Draco in particular a small sneer. The boy yelped and jumped back a bit. Turning around, he gave their head of house a feral grin and pointed his cane at him, which caused Profesor Snape to stiffen up in his seat. He walked over to the staff table and took his seat without saying a word.

Once again, murmurs swept through the Great Hall. "Did you see his eye?" "Did you see his _face_?" "Moody? Mad-Eye Moody? The King of Paranoia Moody?" "You think he'll keep the Slytherins under control this year?" "He hates Slytherins. I like him already." The last one was said by Ron.

Harry, however, was feeling just the opposite. Leaning over to Hermione, he said, "Do you have a really strong feeling that we shouldn't trust him?"

"Yes... but at the same time, I'm feeling that he's... _reliable_. Like he saved my life or something," answered Hermione. "It's weird, and it seems so conflicting."

"Maybe it's because he acted differently in one future than in another?"

"Maybe. I think we should be wary around him, just to be safe."

"You're right. I was a little off the mark with Cedric at the World Cup, but I'm pretty sure now it's the Triwizard Tournament that he'll have problems with. I might be misinterpreting things again," said Harry. They decided to wait until their first class with Professor Moody to see what kind of person he was. The talk and excitement for everyone else over the Triwizard Tournament and their new DADA professor didn't end when the feast did, with everyone chattering away until curfew. Harry, though, had to see his headmaster and head of house.

* * *

"Harry, please tell me everything you remember about the... dream you had in the summer?" Harry was sitting directly across from Professor Dumbledore, in his office.

_Don't you think I could recall it better if we had discussed this a month ago?_ Harry thought snidely. At least he had the chance to experience it twice to get a really good idea. "I was inside Voldemort's body, which was about the size of an infant. Pettigrew was nearby, calling him master and setting up some kind of ritual. He spoke in Parseltongue to his snake, telling her to sit at the center of a diagram on the floor. A muggle man, probably the caretaker of the mansion Voldemort was hiding in, told him to get out, but he was then murdered."

"Thank you, Harry. Are there any more specifics that seemed to stand out?" Dumbledore asked as he stroked his beard in thought.

" The muggle man mentioned that the place was called Riddle Manor. I think I might also be able to draw out a little bit of the diagram on the floor, too. Could I have a quill and parchment?" When Dumbledore gave it to him, Harry began sketching what he could remember. He only got a clear look at a few of the runes on the ground, barely more than five or six out of several hundred that were part of the elaborate ritual, but he did remember the general layout. Handing the parchment back to Dumbledore, he said, "That's really all I could remember. The snake sat in the middle of that. The _vision_ ended right when he cast _Avada Kedavra_ at the muggle man." Harry put extra emphasis on _vision_, because he was absolutely certain of what he experienced.

"Ah... yes..." murmured Dumbledore as he continued to study the drawing Harry handed back to him. "This is certainly far more detailed than a mere dream. Are you certain about this diagram here?"

"Absolutely," Harry answered with only a word, watching his headmaster's face. Dumbledore clearly recognized and feared the ritual that Voldemort performed.

"Very well. I must admit your ability to remember a few of the runes surprised me. Most students who have not studied the subject would remember little but a few squiggles."

"Actually, I have studied them, all summer. I wanted to ask you about switching courses," Harry said. "I'd like to drop Divination, and take Ancient Runes instead."

"Oh?" Dumbledore looked surprised. "Most people drop the harder course to take something easier, not the other way around. Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered. "I've studied with Hermione's notes and I think it's a far more useful subject than divination. The benefits are far more... predictable. Concrete, if you will."

"I have to admit that divination is far more of a woolly subject. I do prefer my socks to be nice and woolly, but not my facts. This vision, however, seems to show you have an aptitude for the subject, though. I will ask you once more. Are you sure you'd like to drop Divination?"

"With all due respect to Professor Trelawney, I don't think her lessons helped me receive that vision this summer. If I were to have another one, I think I'd get it whether taking Divination or not, so I'd rather just drop it and learn runes instead," Harry answered firmly.

"Very well, Harry. I will inform Professor McGonagall tomorrow, and you should receive your new schedule by dinnertime." Harry was dismissed from Dumbledore's office, and all the twinkle was gone from the old man's eyes.

* * *

Their first chance to see Professor Moody in person as the fourth-year Defense professor was on Tuesday. The classroom was empty, but it had been redecorated like Harry had never seen before. The entire classroom was covered with foe-glasses, sneakoscopes, probity probes and other monitoring devices that covered nearly every wall, including the ceiling and some parts of the floors. Most of the students were baffled by this, and even the ones who had heard of Moody's reputation for paranoia were surprised at how far he took it. They all nervously sat down, waiting for Professor Moody to make an appearance.

Suddenly, a closet at the back of the room flew open, and Moody was standing there with his wand raised. "_Incarcerous! Incarcerous!"_ He began to throwing the rope-binding spell from behind everyone. The first few were caught unawares, and were immediately tied up. A few others managed to face Moody before they were caught, but went down within seconds. Several others froze in surprise or fear once they realized what was happening, and Moody also seemed to target them first, which included Neville and Ron. It wasn't until he wrapped up nearly a third of the students that the others began to scramble away, diving to the floor or hiding behind the desks. Harry was one of the first to shield himself with a desk, and Hermione followed suit. Unfortunately, he dropped his wand in the process, and it took several seconds for him to pick it up again. He threw off the same combination of hexes he used on Draco at the end of last year- _Silencio, Petrificus Totalus, _and _Incarcerous_.

Immediately, Moody stopped attacking the class. Evidently, none of the spells actually managed to hit him, as he strode to the front of the room while shouting at the class. "It's about time, you lazy moppets! What class do you think this is?" He scanned the entire class, while his fake eye seemed to be glaring at the ones who were bound in ropes.

"Um... Defense Against Dark Arts? Sir?" came a meek voice from the back.

"Correct! Now, how on earth do you sack of potatoes think you can defend yourself against the Dark Arts if you're never prepared? I've seen Mexican jumping beans move faster than you! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He barked out the last two words, making everyone jump. He continued to berate the entire class. "I took down three of you before anyone even thought to turn figure out why. I took down a third of you before the rest figured out you had to run. I was halfway through the entire class before someone was smart enough to try and stop me! Now, who's the one who gave me the Dueller's Hello?"

Harry raised his hand. "It was me... err, what do you mean by the Dueller's Hello?"

"Good lad, even if you were a bit slow on the uptake. It's called that because it's the first thing that comes out of most dueller's mouths. You're telling me you threw that combination of spells without learning what it actually is?" Moody was eyeing him carefully, with both his eyes.

"Err... no, it just knew I needed to stop you somehow, and those spells just seemed really easy to cast one after the other," Harry said. He knew he must have trained himself sometime in one of his past futures, but he honestly couldn't remember when exactly he learned or practiced it.

"Then you've certainly got some natural talent for duelling, but what took you so long to get those spells off?"

"Err... I dropped my wand when I ducked behind the desk."

"And where do you keep your wand, boy?"

"In my pocket..." Harry began to think that was a very wrong answer.

"Your POCKET? Where do you plan to cast all your spells, the floor? Who else keeps their wands in their pockets?" Several students meekly raised their hands. "I certainly hope that those of you who aren't raising your hands are keeping your wands someplace _better_!" He looked over at Su Li, one of the Ravenclaws. "You! Draw your wand!" He immediately began throwing stinging hexes at the girl, who apparently left her wand in her book bag. Flinching and wincing from the pain the entire way, Moody shot off at least fifteen hexes before she managed to finally get her wand in hand.

Moody shook his head in disappointment. "Fifteen hexes! Every one of those could have been a stunner, a slicer, a bludgeoner, a petrifying curse, or even a killing curse. You would have been dead fifteen times over if I wasn't such a kind and gentle old man." He heard a suppressed snort of laughter from the other side of the room. Malfoy and his little band of Slytherins were apparently laughing at the Ravenclaw's misfortune.

"Oh, so you think you can do better, Mr. Malfoy?" Moody growled.

Draco smirked at Su and said, "Of course. My father bought me a wand holster..." before he could finish talking, he was hit by a stinging hex.

"Well, boy? Where's that wand of yours?" Moody continued to fire while talking. Apparently he could do those spells wordlessly, and very rapidly. Draco ejected his wand from the arm-holster, but was struck by another hex right when it shot out, and it flew out of his grasp. It dropped to the ground several feet in front of him, and he had to scramble towards it to pick it up, suffering stinging hexes all the way. In the end, Draco took far longer than Su, and was struck by twenty-five stingers. Everyone was glad to see the loudmouthed bully taken down a peg, but nobody dared to laugh at his misfortune in front of Moody.

"In case any of you still don't understand, I expect every single one of you to have your wand in hand in this class or ready to draw your wand at a moment's notice. This is Defense Against the Dark Arts, and you will NEVER be able to defend yourself unless you practice CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

* * *

"Well, that was certainly an interesting class," said Harry. He was practicing Occlumency in the Gryffindor common room along with Hermione and Neville the first weekend of the school year. Ron decided to play chess with Dean instead.

"I'll say," said Neville. "He certainly knows how to get his point across, though."

"I have to admit, even though he's the most unorthodox teacher we've had so far, I get the feeling we'll learn a lot from him," agreed Hermione.

"Well, at least we know he's got experience keeping himself safe," said Harry, pointing towards the twins. The redheaded duo, after hearing stories of his first lessons (but before they had their first class), made a very unfortunate mistake- they attempted to prank Moody. They had laid a trap for him between his classroom and the office, which was supposed to swap his wooden walking-stick with his metallic prosthetic leg. Somehow, Moody not only dispelled the trap, but also knew exactly who had laid it, and tracked them down halfway across the castle. Fred ended up crawling into the infirmary that day with both legs transfigured into wooden sticks, while George dragged himself there with both legs turned to metal. Sufficed to say, they were constantly vigilant the during their entire first class with Moody.

After checking each other's minds with Legilimency, they decided it was time to test out Neville. They didn't expect him to be able to fend off an attack, but they wanted him to let it know what it felt like when someone was probing his mind. "Neville, don't let anyone know about what I'm going to do next, alright? Kids like us aren't exactly supposed to know how to do this..." Harry said, looking around to make sure nobody was listening in.

Neville raised an eyebrow, but agreed. Harry continued, "I'd like you to concentrate on that greenhouse of yours. Try to empty it out, but leave only one memory in there for me to get. Um... how about the first broom lesson back in first year? When you're ready, look me in the eyes."

Neville closed his eyes, concentrated, and after a minute looked straight at Harry without a word. Harry quietly cast _Legilimens_, and immediately found himself in Neville's greenhouse. There was a single plant at the center, and as he approached it, he began to feel Neville's anticipation, fear, self-doubt, and anxiousness, everything he felt back in the first year flying lesson. As he got closer, he began to see images, and some glimpses of the argument with Draco from Neville's point of view. Thinking he had gone far enough, he pulled out.

"Good, it seems like you're getting pretty good at keeping your memories organized," complimented Harry. "Could you feel me inside your mind?"

Neville nodded. "It was like... fingers reaching in. So that's how I'll know if someone's using Legilimency on me?"

Harry smiled. "That's right, Nev. Just keep working on the organization, and practice having your mind in that state as often as you can- all day if you can manage it. It's better to get used to having your defences up all the time. You know, like Moody said... Constant Vigilance!"

Neville nodded and went back to concentrating on his own. Harry got up with Hermione, and they left Gryffindor Tower to sneak off to the Room of Requirement again to practice their duelling, Animagi transformations, and try to figure out their apprehensive feelings towards Moody. The room provided a comfortable, padded room with a duelling arena in the center and a hidden entrance. They sat down on the cushions surrounding the duelling arena. Hermione spoke first. "What if he's a spy for someone else? Or an impostor? Maybe he's using Polyjuice?"

Harry thought about it for a minute. "We don't know him well enough to figure out his allegiances. If he has turned traitor or something, maybe one of the other staff will notice. Didn't he fight alongside them during the last war? They should know him fairly well, at least. If he's an impostor, though, we can figure it out tonight at dinner with the Marauder's Map." Even if that checked out, they could talk to Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore later to ask if they noticed him acting differently from how they remembered him in the last war.

Harry and Hermione decided to make use of the room by working on their duelling skills next. Following the first duelling book to get a good overview (or was it review?) of the fundamentals, they began with the _protego_ spell. Both of them, to some mild surprise, managed to do a decent one on their first try, so they tested it out on each other by firing off minor jinxes and hexes until their shields failed. They also worked on changing the size and shape of the shield, expanding it to protect their entire body, or an object beside them. After practicing until they were nearly exhausted, they decided to relax and meditate, concentrating on their Animagus forms.

Throughout the summer, they both felt that they could get in touch with their primal emotions much better when they were together. They had never quite managed to find their forms, however, and failed to progress much further. This time, since they were both exhausted from their first duelling training session, they fell asleep beside each other while in their meditative trance.

Harry found himself flying through the air. Looking at the ground below him, it seemed like he was about the same height as he was when he usually flew during a Quidditch match. Flying back and forth, he looked around for the other players, but couldn't find anyone else. Where was the team? Where were the spectators? He was struck with a sudden sense of homesickness when he realized he was alone. Turning back in the direction where he came from, he started searching for home. Where _was_ his home? He couldn't tell. He wanted safety, comfort... companionship. He knew where he could get it. Hermione's house! Which direction was it? Where did he have to go? He remembered Hermione's home, in a city by the sea. He flew and flew until he reached the ocean. An odd thought struck him as he continued his search. _I really shouldn't show up without a gift_. As he thought that, he saw something sparkle in the water. The golden snitch! Once again, he let his instinct take over as his sight narrowed and he focused all his strength into diving as fast as he could towards it. Oddly, he didn't reach out to grab it with his hands, but instead used his feet, and then noticed his feet were actually talons. They gripped the snitch viciously, refusing to let go as he went on in search of Hermione's house. He couldn't see it... but something smelled familiar. He moved towards it... yes, it was Hermione's scent. Onwards he flew.

Hermione was standing tall in the grass. She could see in every direction, and she, too, was alone. Using her keen eyes, she scanned the field in front of her. What was she looking for? She was missing something. Or was it someone? She was missing someone. Or maybe not. Someone was missing her. She hopped up on top of a rock for a better view. She was here, and she was waiting. Someone needed her, and she was waiting for them. Was she waiting in the right place? She couldn't see them. She couldn't hear them, hold him, smell him... him. Harry. Harry was searching for her. Where could he be? Where could he find her? Instinctively, she looked down to the ground again. _Underground. Underground is safe, underground is comfortable, underground is secret. Their secret, only they could go there... the Chamber of Secrets!_ She needed to find the Chamber. Hopping across the field, she investigated a hole in the ground. Did that one lead to the Chamber? She jumped in, then back out. No. Next one. She continued to search.

They woke up in each other's arms, gripping each other like as if their lives depended on it. Both of them thought of breaking apart, but both also decided to savour the moment instead. When it was clear to each of them that the other was awake, Harry told Hermione about his dream. "I was flying. I was searching for you... I had to find you, Hermione. I, uh, also tried to get you a gift."

Hermione looked at seductively, biting her lower lip. "A gift, huh? What did you get me?"

Harry avoided her gaze, and muttered, "The golden snitch."

Hermione's seductive gaze disappeared instantly. "That's really romantic, Harry," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and half a smile crossing her lips.

"Hey! It was just a dream! I didn't really have control over it," he said defensively. "And what did you dream about, by the way?"

"I was waiting for you. I was trying to find the Chamber of Secrets by jumping into holes in the ground..." Hermione said. When Harry looked like he was trying to suppress his laughter, Hermione added, "It was just a dream, alright? It made sense then."

"Well, in any case, I'm pretty sure this means my animagus form is some kind of bird. With talons."

"And mine is some kind of burrowing animal... I just hope I'm not a rat," Hermione said, as she made a face. They decided to lay there for a while and enjoy each other's presence again, just like how they found themselves when they woke up.

* * *

When they realized their afternoon nap had taken them to dinnertime, they quickly made their way back to Gryffindor Tower to grab the Marauder's Map before heading to the Great Hall. Right outside the entrance, Harry hid behind the corner while Hermione peeked in, looking at the staff table. "Is he there?" asked Harry.

"Yes, he's sitting at his chair," answered Hermione. "What does the map say?"

"It's him alright. Alastor Moody." Harry folded up the map, they proceeded inside for dinner. They resolved to get more background information on Moody by asking the other staff members the next day.

* * *

**Author's chapter end notes:**

- This is where I'm going to start messing around with canon. I didn't like the original explanation of Barty-was-polyjuiced-all-year-to-kidnap-Harry so I've changed how things work, hopefully for the better. I'm also changing the Triwizard events, which I might explain next chapter as well.

- Chapter revised, added a scene with dumbledore.


	10. Suspicions

**Author's notes:** JKR owns HP

- Thanks for reading, everybody. There's quite a few things I'm changing from canon, but namely the biggest one is the reason that Barty ambushed Crouch over the summer, and the reason that Harry is kidnapped at the end of the tournament. I'll reveal them in due time, but hopefully they'll make more sense than what JKR decided to do in GoF.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Suspicions**

"Professor McGonagall, we'd like to ask you a few questions about Professor Moody." Harry and Hermione had stayed behind after their Transfiguration class, hoping to get a better picture of Moody's character from their Head of House.

"What would you need to ask me for that you couldn't ask him directly?" McGonagall had always had a strong sense of fair play- and, of course, bravery. Talking about people behind their backs wasn't something she approved of.

Hermione gave a well-practised reply. "We haven't exactly had a pleasant record of DADA teachers, especially not Harry. I mean, in first year, it was Quirrel, who Harry defeated to get the philosopher's stone. In second year, Lockhart vanished his bones once, and tried to obliviate him. Professor Lupin was the only good teacher we've had. We'd like to know if you've ever known Professor Moody outside of Hogwarts."

Professor McGonagall frowned, but nodded in agreement. "I agree you haven't received a... _consistent_ education these past few years in DADA. However, I can assure you that Moody certainly knows enough about the subject. He used to be Head Auror at the Ministry. He refused to take the post of Head of Magical Law Enforcement because, as he claimed, he 'couldn't catch dark hooligans from behind a desk.' Although he's never taught schoolchildren before, he trained dozens of Aurors at the academy for a decade after the end of the last war. That might be why he seems like such a harsh teacher. He's used to working with people who are older, more powerful, and more willing to learn the subject."

Harry nodded. "Um... can I ask you if he's been acting any differently? Or unusually?"

The professor gave them a warm chuckle. "I suppose you're talking about his rather odd habits? Scanning his food for poison, drinking from his hip flask, all the dark detectors he has around his classroom and the general... paranoia? He's been like that for years. Even before the first war against You-Know-Who. He was a young recruit back during the rise of the previous dark lord, Grindelwald. I believe one of his comrades turned out to be a spy for Grindelwald. It's how he lost his leg, right in enemy territory. He fought his way out somehow, but he could rarely trust anyone completely after that."

They thanked their professor for her time. The following day, they tried the same thing with Professor Flitwick.

"So you'd like to know more about Professor Moody?" The normally cheerful, diminutive professor grinned a rather feral grin. "My suggestion to you is never to take him head-on."

Harry gave him a blank look. "We... err... weren't planning to."

"Good! Because in all my years as a professional dueller before I came to Hogwarts, I've never seen anyone fight like him. Then again, I've never had a chance to duel him properly. I'm sure, with all the rules and regulations in place, I could still beat him in an arena, but I'd never imagine trying to take him on out in the field. His style of combat would have you bleeding on the ground before the referee could count the number of fouls he'd committed. You can certainly learn a lot about magical combat from that man, about as much as you could learn from me about duelling."

Professor Flitwick made him sound scary- an international champion of duelling just admitted, flat-out, that he would lose in a real fight against Moody. Hermione nervously asked, "But he's fair, right? You'd trust him to use his skills... for justice?"

"Oh, of course! He always tried to capture his targets alive and give them a proper trial. Mind you, 'alive' just means 'alive.' He'd rarely try to stop someone with a mere stunner. He always made sure he took them down hard enough that they couldn't get back up again, except to sit in a chair in front of the Wizengamot. As far as trust goes, you'd have a harder time proving to him that you're on the side of the Light than the other way around. He rarely trusts anyone, even old friends have to prove their identity with secret questions whenever they meet. He's still keeping tabs on all the younger professors here at Hogwarts, like Professor Vector."

Again, thanking their Charms professor for his time, Harry and Hermione left. It seemed Moody wasn't a problem... at least, not yet.

* * *

A little over two weeks after school began, Hermione celebrated her fifteenth birthday. They held the party in the Gryffindor Common Room and invited all the Gryffindors, where Dobby delivered the cake. Harry had owled Madam Rosmerta to order some butterbeer, which Dobby picked up as well. He made sure to give the little house-elf three pairs of socks for the effort. After generous helpings of cake and several rounds of "Happy birthday Hermione!" were given by everyone, it was time to open up the presents.

Ron had bought her a book... on Quidditch. Still, at least he was trying. "Now you'll have something exciting to read about!" said Ron, as she unwrapped the present. She gave a polite "thank-you" and picked up the next gift.

Neville had also chosen to give her a book, Fantastic Flora of France. Apparently, France had some of the widest varieties of magical flowers, most of which were extremely beautiful. Hermione gave the boy a hug in thanks. Harry knew he just had to sneak a look into that book for future reference.

The twins' gift was a dozen quills. Hermione knew they couldn't possibly be ordinary quills, so she eyed them carefully and didn't touch them before asking the twins, "So... is there anything special I should know about these quills?"

They replied, "Welcome to the fantastic world..."

"Of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

"The greatest source..."

"For pranks, jokes, gags..."

"And everything else to make your entire life more interesting!"

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Well, that was interesting, but what's so special about these quills in particular?"

George explained. "Well, these are our Dozen Duplicate Dicta-Quills! We've turned the plain, old Dicta-quill and made it even more convenient by allowing you to make up to a dozen copies at the same time of anything you dictate to a single quill! Not only that, they're charmed to work a good distance away from each other, so they can be in separate rooms or still work!"

Fred continued. "They work if you write the normal way, too. We figured it was an easy way to make our own copies of the answer keys..." Hermione glared at him furiously for that. "...but we figured a brilliant mind like yours would find a much, much nobler use for our inventions," he finished.

Hermione gave them a slightly scornful look. "Well, thanks anyways, guys." Looking around the room, she added, "and no, I won't be using these to make copies of my homework for anyone." Half the room laughed while the other half drooped their heads in disappointment.

Her parents had made use of Kerris, who delivered a letter of congratulations and her gift, a pair of high-end leather gloves. Evidently, her mother knew her size well, as the gloves fit her perfectly.

Harry's gift was, at first glance, just another book. It was a thick leather-bound tome without a title, but it also had a metal frame across the covers. Upon opening it, the pages were all blank. Hermione gave him an odd look. "I hope this isn't a diary, Harry. Especially not one that writes back." Ginny stiffened in the background.

Harry laughed. "No, it's a recording tome. It can copy and store any book you have. You see this metal frame? Just swing it around so it faces the opposite direction, and place another book here..." He grabbed Neville's gift, and clamped the metallic, jaw-like covers over it. "...and it will copy the entire contents of the book onto this tome. You can recall the book simply by saying the title, or by calling it up from a list. It'll hold about two thousand books or a million pages." Opening up the tome, Fantastic Flora of France was listed in small text on the first page. Tapping the name, the title etched itself into the leather at the front of the tome, and its pages filled in exact copies of the book Neville gave.

Hermione squealed and gave Harry a hug. "This is just what I needed, Harry! Thank you!" she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. When she pulled back, she found herself staring into Harry's bright green eyes, and Harry into her deep brown ones. They were instantly lost in each other's gazes, and without thinking, both of them gravitated towards each others' lips and began a slow, gentle kiss. As they let the waves of euphoria wash over them, they didn't notice how silent the entire room had become. They were lost in their own little world. Nobody would disturb them, and nobody could if they tried.

When they finished, they realized everyone in the common room was staring at them. Hermione showed some mild embarrassment, but Harry was wondering what was wrong. The kiss felt so _right_, and it wasn't as if they were going wild with each other... why did it seem like such a big deal? _Oh, I forgot. Nobody else knows we're together... even though it's been over two months for us,_ he remembered.

"Right then, so should we officially change the results of Harry's Love Pool to '_September of Fourth Year with Hermione Granger'_ now?"

Everyone waited for Hermione to berate the twins once again, but she just decided to lean over on to Harry, and said, "You know, just go with it. I've had a fantastic birthday and I'm not going to spoil it by getting mad at you two jokers."

After everyone else left the party and began to go back to their schoolwork, Harry whispered to Hermione, "I still have one more thing to give you. Come with me." Harry led Hermione up to his dorm, where Dean and Seamus were working on their homework. Seamus saw Hermione, and grinned at Harry, saying, "Wow, you work fast don'tcha mate? Bringing her to bed already? It's not even dark out!"

Harry laughed, not bothering to reply to the tease. He brought his Firebolt out from under his bed, and told Hermione, "Hop on. I still owe you the flying lesson, remember? We haven't had a chance to fly together all summer."

Hermione gaped. "What? Here?"

"Yeah, of course. We'll just go straight out the window," he replied casually.

Still looking at him incredulously, she sputtered, "But... but we're on the seventh floor! It's so high up..."

"Well, just hold on tight," Harry said, grabbing one of Hermione's arms and wrapping it around him. She put her other arm around his waist and held on as Harry took off, flying right through the window.

They sailed over the castle, weaving around the various towers. They circled above the astronomy tower, which was well known for its romantic views, and gained an even better vantage to the landscape around them. They then looped around the Owlery a few times until Hedwig noticed them and joined in for a few minutes, giving several hoots in greeting. Turning towards the Black lake, Harry skimmed the surface and provided the same view that the first-years received on their arrival to Hogwarts. From there, it was a few loops around the Quidditch pitch, which Hermione had never seen from a player's perspective. The flight finally ended with a view of the sunset behind Hogwarts castle, which was even more beautiful than what they witnessed from the Burrow. Upon landing at the front gates, Hermione touched her forehead to Harry's, placing her arms around his neck, and whispered, "That was the best birthday I've ever had. I love you, Harry."

A simple "you're welcome" and a kiss ended their private moment as they stepped back into the castle.

* * *

A week before the other schools arrived with their delegations, the castle was cleaned from top to bottom. All the ghosts were enlisted to keep Peeves in line, while all the students scrubbed every surface and swept every room, much to Filch's enjoyment. The punishments for defacing or dirtying the castle were an instant week in detention, keeping anyone troublesome out of harm's way until after the welcoming ceremony was over. Professor McGonagall nearly dedicated all her time making sure Fred and George were kept in line, threatening to confiscate their wands for the duration of the entire year, except during classes, if they stepped out of line. Three days before the arrival, they began having "practice runs" of the greeting ceremony. Although there was little to do other than stand in a straight line with clean robes on, the professors still managed to find errors and nitpick away.

The day of arrival was sunny, but chilly. The students thanked the heavens that it wasn't raining, because it was made abundantly clear to them that they were to standing there until all the foreign students were inside, rain or shine. The Beauxbatons carriages came flying in at around three o'clock, and the Durmstrang ship rose from the Black Lake an hour later. Each school had brought along about two dozen of their top students. After the formal greetings between headmasters and staff, the students were ushered into the Great Hall for the official introduction to the Triwizard Tournament.

Inside the Great Hall, many small, round tables had replaced the four long house tables. After everyone had settled down, they were introduced to a few new faces. Madam Olympe Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons, and Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of Durmstrang. Also present were Ludo Bagman, Director of Magical Games and Sports, and Bartemius Crouch, Director of International Cooperation. A dull, mandatory round of applause came for every one of them. Finally, they reached the subject of everyone's interest- the Triwizard Tournament. Ludo Bagman explained.

"This tournament has been a traditional competition between the three greatest magical schools in all of Europe. Competition was fierce and contestants were brave and strong, but it became more and more dangerous as each school attempted to trump the last by hosting more exotic and extreme challenges. Two hundred years ago, the tournament ended, when no participant managed to survive the final task." Many people gasped, but Bagman continued.

"Obviously, now that we have chosen to revive it, we will be enacting far greater safety precautions, and the emphasis will be on _friendly_ competition. All the schools have agreed that the safety of the participants will be top priority. However, don't think that this will be easy! All the participants will have to demonstrate their strength, skill, intelligence, planning, resourcefulness, and grace under pressure to win this tournament." Gleeful conversations began throughout the hall, with all the students wondering who would enter.

Bagman held up a hand, and continued his speech. "Before you enter, you need to know the terms. First, as everyone must be eager to hear, are the prizes for the winner. Your eternal fame, recorded within the hall of records as the winner of the Triwizard Tournament, along with one thousand galleons prize money." Nobody could keep quiet now. One thousand galleons was a lot of money- no student had ever held that much to themselves. Even the richest purebloods, like Malfoy, never saw that much in his allowances. Ron was practically drooling at the announcement. Harry, on the other hand, didn't care. He received double that amount annually from his trust fund alone. On the other hand, he just knew he would be entered into the tournament, whether he wanted to or not.

"Now, before all of you get too excited, I'll tell you about the competition itself. It is made up of four trials of elements, and three trials of champions. There will be a final champion's task at the end of the year to determine the winner, for a total of eight events for the eight months from November to June. We can't tell you exactly what each trial consists of, because the champions themselves will only be told the details shortly beforehand to prepare for each of the trials and the final task. The champions themselves will be selected by an impartial judge. Professor Dumbledore, if you please?"

With a flick of Dumbledore's wand, a large podium rose out of the ground in front of the staff table. On top of it sat a bejewelled metal casket, which Dumbledore opened with his hands. Inside stood a wooden goblet, intricate carvings on its side, but seemingly unexceptional.

"This is the impartial judge that will choose the champion for each school. When the fire has been lit, those who wish to participate must sign their name and school on a piece of parchment and drop it into the goblet. The champions will be chosen at the end of this month, on the evening of October 31st. However, please note that there will be an age limit. You must be of age, that is, seventeen years old to participate. That means you must turn seventeen by the 31st to be able to enter. The goblet will be protected by an age line as well as other security features until then. Good luck to all those who intend to participate." Screams of outrage, mostly coming from the sixth years, rang through the Hall. None of the foreign students seemed to be surprised in the least- obviously they had known before coming.

Hermione laughed and nudged Harry. "Look at Malfoy," was all she whispered to him. Harry knew what she was hinting at. Turning around, he saw a tomato-faced Slytherin sitting with his fellow fourth-years. Draco had been boasting all month that he would not only enter, but be selected as the Hogwarts Champion.

Harry whispered back to Hermione, "If you think he looks embarrassed now, wait till I get picked as a fourth champion." Hermione gave him a short look in confusion that quickly turned into understanding. "It's a shame we don't know how it's going to happen, though."

Drinks and light snacks appeared at the tables as everyone in the Great Hall was encouraged to mix and mingle in an opportunity for some "cultural exchange." It wasn't going quite as smoothly as the organizers had hoped, though. The Beauxbatons students mostly kept to themselves, while the Hogwarts students almost immediately divided themselves back into their separate houses. The Durmstrang students weren't avoiding people per se, but it was more like others were avoiding them. They simply looked unapproachable, but Malfoy took this as an opportunity to flaunt his family name and cozy up to some of them- especially one famous seeker for the Bulgarian National Team. Ron was itching to go talk to him, so Harry and Hermione approached, overhearing the conversation he was having with Draco.

"...and with such pure-blooded standards as yours, my father very nearly sent me to Durmstrang, you see. I could have been one of your classmates."

Viktor Krum scoffed. "A little boy like you vood never haff entered Durmstrang. You beleeff you are worth something. You are not."

Malfoy was quickly enraged by the famous Durmstrang student's offhand dismissal. "Do you know who I am? I'm a Malfoy! My father is..."

Viktor rolled his eyes. "Your father, your name, that is all you haff, boy. You haff no magic, you haff no strength. In Drumstrang, names do not cast spells." Several Durmstrang students laughed, causing Draco to storm off, with his little entourage in tow. Hermione overheard a few murmurs of the Durmstrang students discussing the little encounter.

"...Hogwarts is decadent. They take students if they haff gold. De Tournament vill be easy to win."

"...he still cries to his father! Such babies they breed in this country!"

Hermione was intrigued by the students' attitudes. Durmstrang was well known for being a pure-blood school. At least, that was its reputation in Britain. Cautiously, she walked up to the group of fur-robed students, and asked "Excuse me, but I've heard that Durmstrang only accepts pure-blood students, but you just ridiculed one of the most pure-blooded student in our school..."

Two of the students beside Viktor laughed. "The two off us are half-blood. Blood has no vorth in Durmstrang. Only power."

Hermione was surprised at this. "But if that's the case, why don't you take in muggleborns? Surely many of them have the potential to be powerful wizards..."

Viktor answered her with a question. "Hogwarts accepts all students who apply and pay money, yes?" Hermione nodded. "Durmstrang is different. Students must compete before entering school."

Hermione understood, but was clearly angered by the explanation. "You have to know magic before school even starts, then! Muggleborn have a clear handicap! That's completely unfair!"

Viktor shrugged. "I am here to make myself a strong vizard. Not try to change rules. Not my problem." He turned and left to chat with some seventh years, those who he viewed as possible competition.

* * *

The chatter and gossip didn't end with the party. Fred and George were peeved that they couldn't enter, because their birthday was only a few months short of the limit. Ron was still in awe over the prize money, imagining the kinds of broomsticks and chocolate he could buy with it.

"Harry, we've got a small request for you." Harry turned to see the twins, with rarely-seen serious expressions on their faces.

"We need to borrow the map." Harry knew what they were up to already.

"And we'd like to borrow your Invisibility Cloak." Harry was reluctant to leave his trusty cloak, which had served him very well the past several years, to the twins. It could be confiscated if the twins got caught. Sure, the twins had a reputation for being able to pull off pranks and rarely getting caught in the process, only receiving the punishments after the prank had been completed, but Harry didn't want to risk such a precious family heirloom. He was, however, curious to see what the twins planned to do.

"I'll tell you what," answered Harry. "I can't lend you the cloak... but I'll go to the Goblet of Fire with you. I'll wear my cloak and hold on to the map myself to scout ahead to make sure it's clear, and then I'll signal to you to do whatever it is you plan to do."

The twins agreed to the compromise and explained their plans. "We'll be brewing aging potions tomorrow. They should be ready by evening. We want to sneak off after curfew and try to get past the age line. We've also got these nice little Arm Extenders... a Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes exclusive... as an alternative method for getting our names in. Meet us tomorrow night, down here at eleven, alright?"

The following night, Harry and the twins snuck out of the common room, quietly making their way down to the Great Hall. They had to use the secret passages and hidden alcoves several times as professors and prefects were still roaming the halls. "Wait!" George suddenly stopped them while they were hiding on the 4th floor. "Check where Moody is. I swear that eye of his can see through walls."

Harry scanned the map, looking for a dot labelled Alastor Moody. "He's still in his office, with Bartemius Crouch. Probably having some kind of meeting about security or something." They continued downstairs, stopping a floor above the Great Hall. Keeping his eye on the map, Harry said, "It's only professor Babbling patrolling the entrance of the Great Hall. Nobody's inside, so as long as you can get past her, you should be safe. Do you two have anything to cause a distraction?"

Fred grinned. "Who do you think you're talking to, Harry?" he said as he pulled out a pile of knickknacks. "Would you like the classic dungbomb, whizzing worms, or some of our personal inventions, like the Wyvernwork?"

"What's the Wyvernwork?"

"It's a firework that explodes in the shape of a tiny dragon, and it flies around for a while. We're still working on how to make it bigger, as well as having a full lineup of Bursting Beasties."

"That'll do," said Harry. "I'll set it off further down the hall. When she moves away, get into the Great Hall. When you're finished, move and stand by the doors. I'll watch you on the map, and set off another one so you guys can escape." Satisfied with the plan, the twins handed Harry two of the Wyvernworks, who silently made his way downstairs. About thirty paces away from the Great Hall, he lit one of the little fireworks and hurried around a corner to wait. It went off after he ducked behind a suit of armor, exploding into a brilliant little dragon-shaped creature made up of green sparkles. It even breathed a few red sparkle-flames from its mouth. Predictably, Professor Babbling ran down the hall to investigate, and Harry watched the two dots on the map enter the Great Hall. Keeping as still as possible, he made no noise at all as Babbling searched the hall up and down for him.

He kept watch on the dots of Fred and George Weasley as they moved towards the front of the hall where the Goblet of Fire was placed. They seemed to circle around the cup a few times, but then scrambled back. _Uh oh, _thought Harry. _I take it that means they didn't do too well..._ There was suddenly a flurry of movement on the map. Multiple professors were descending on the Great Hall. _Oh, nuts, the twins will have hell to pay if they're caught by Moody again, _he realized._ It figures that the Goblet would have more security than just an age line. _He was about to set off another Wyvernwork when he noticed something odd on the map. Moody hadn't left his office. Crouch, however, had. _This is even worse. They'll be in trouble with a ministry official!_

Harry quickly moved towards the hall where Crouch was coming from. Hoping to distract Crouch, or at least delay his arrival, he lit the firework just before the man was about to round the corner. While the fuse was burning, Harry heard a familiar _Clink-tak- clink-tak _sound. _How did Moody get here so fast? He was still in his office last time I looked..._ Harry quickly dug out his map, and saw the name _Bartemius Crouch_ moving down the hallway, where the sound was coming from. It rounded the corner, and Harry got a good look at man- it was Moody, complete with peg-leg, cane, and fake eye. Harry only had a second to do a double-take with the map before the Wyvernwork exploded, with the sparkling creature flying straight towards the impostor. Crouch- or was it Moody?- yelped as he covered his fake eye, obviously sensitive to the pyrotechnics. Harry took advantage of the situation and fled.

_This is huge... why would Crouch be impersonating Moody? I need to tell a professor._ He scanned the map, looking for Albus Dumbledore, but it wasn't anywhere on the map. The headmaster must have left the grounds, probably dealing with ministry officials or something. Meanwhile, it seemed that many of the professors were investigating the area where he had set off the Wyvernwork, while several others were escorting Fred and George towards the infirmary while Crouch was in the Great Hall by himself. Harry searched for the next choice- Professor McGonagall. He found her keeping close to Gryffindor Tower, patrolling the halls of the seventh floor. Putting his invisibility cloak away, he ran up the many flights of stairs to find his head of house.

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing roaming the halls at this hour?" McGonagall asked, entirely unsurprised.

Out of breath after running up six flights of stairs, Harry panted, "I... need... to talk... something... strange... Crouch..."

"Catch your breath, Mr. Potter. Now tell me, what's going on? The staff just received an alert that _somebody_ attempted to bypass the Goblet's protections. It wasn't you who made the attempt, was it?" McGonagall asked, with displeasure in her voice. "The rules were very clear, Mr. Potter. I'll not have you besmirching the name of Gryffindor with such foolish escapades..."

"No! It wasn't me... I was just lending the twins a hand... but that's not the problem!" cried Harry. "Bartemius Crouch is doing something strange- I think he took polyjuice and impersonated Professor Moody! I just saw him a few minutes ago..."

Professor McGonagall looked doubtful. "Mr. Potter, may I ask how you came to that conclusion? Polyjuice is a very complex potion which makes a perfectly changes a person to look like somebody else. I find it hard to imagine that you could tell the difference between one person and a polyjuiced impostor, when most Aurors wouldn't be able to without several advanced spells or a blood verification." Harry was trying to decide whether or not to tell her about the map while McGonagall continued.

"Secondly, why do you suspect Mr. Crouch? He is not on school grounds at all tonight. He, along with Ludo Bagman and the Headmasters of all three schools are currently at a meeting with the Minister of Magic. They won't return until tomorrow morning. Do you have a better explanation, or is this just a ruse to give Messrs. Fred and George Weasley time to escape? We all know they can't resist trying to get past the goblet's protections." Harry was stunned at the news. He couldn't possibly say that he saw the name on a map that was made decades ago by a bunch of sixth-years... it would be his word against the Headmaster's. Or two headmasters and a headmistress, along with the Minister of Magic himself. Keeping quiet and investigating by himself might be the best option for now.

Harry hung his head down, saying, "I'm sorry, Professor. I was... um... helping the twins tonight. They wanted their names in the cup, and I offered to be a distraction. I just wanted to get you away from Gryffindor Tower so they could sneak back in." It wasn't a complete lie, at least. "I'll take whatever punishment you think fair."

"We'll discuss it tomorrow morning, Mr. Potter. You will stay behind after class tomorrow, after I have verified this story with the Weasley twins. I'll determine your punishment then. Now get to bed, it's far past curfew."

Harry rushed back into his dorm, and opened up the map again. He saw Moody, still in his office. The twins were sitting in the infirmary, and the rest of the professors had gone back to their patrols. The dot labelled Bartemius Crouch was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- yes, the Triwizard Tournament will consist of eight events total (nine if you include the Yule Ball). The reason is just that it makes more sense, really. It's a famous international competition that lasts all school year. Three events, with 3-4 months in between each just doesn't hold public interest very well. Heck, the Olympics only last two weeks! This way, the Triwizard has about one event each month, starting in November, that lasts until June. I'll reveal them as the story progresses. I'd also like to recommend the story The Lie I've Lived by jbern, which is a GoF rewrite that also changes the events significantly. I was certainly inspired by his work, but I'm not trying to copy the events he invented. I hope you guys enjoy it.


	11. Investigations

**Author's Notes: **I'm not going to make money off of a fanfic. This is purely for entertainment only.

- Wow, this was another one of those odd chapters where I had about three goals to aim for, and ended up achieving only one. Oh well, more to write, more to read.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Investigations**

The twins showed up the next morning when Harry was explaining to Hermione what had happened. By an amazing coincidence, he had just gotten to the part of the story where the twins were approaching the Goblet when they appeared.

"Allow us to take the story from here, Harry." Harry turned around to see the twins with long, white beards that looked remarkably similar to Dumbledore's.

"You see, we first tried to figure out how far away the age line was. With careful observation and investigation, we found out exactly where the age line extended," said Fred.

"In other words, you saw the chalk outline on the ground?" asked Hermione, smirking.

"Why yes we did, my fair maiden. It was a good five meters around the cup, well out of reach of our Arm Extenders," explained George.

"But we tried them anyways. We flicked the parchment with our names towards the Goblet."

"A most perfect toss, mind you, it was sailing straight towards that flaming cup..."

"When the fire suddenly burned twice as tall and the parchment was incinerated."

"So we had to resort to our original plan. The Aging potions."

"Which worked brilliantly, mind you..."

"Until you stepped past the line?" Hermione spoke up, again.

"No, my dear Hermione, that's not right at all!" said George, beaming.

"For once, the smartest witch of our generation is quite incorrect," said Fred, with an equally bright smile.

"We were flung across the Great Hall before we even managed to put a foot over the line."

"After which we began growing these beards."

"Which, I have to say, is attracting much more attention from the ladies," said Fred, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I dare say, who knew all these girls preferred the _mature_ look?" Both the twins laughed and ran off to tell their story to other people in the Gryffindor common room.

Back in her serious expression, Hermione asked, "So where were you when all this happened?"

Harry replied, "Down the hall, behind a suit of armour. When they got thrown back, a bunch of teachers started moving towards the Great Hall. They've got some kind of system to alert the staff. I was worried about Moody the most- you remember what he did to the twins last time, right?" Hermione nodded.

"Well, I looked for his dot specifically. It stayed in his office. Mr. Crouch came instead."

"Wait, the head of International Cooperations?"

"Yeah, but when I saw the dot step into the hallway, I set off the distraction. I was expecting to see Crouch, but I saw Moody instead."

Hermione's eyes widened. "What? You're sure about that?"

"Yeah, I looked back at the map just to be sure. Mr. Crouch was impersonating Moody for some reason. Moody was still in his office."

"But why would he have to disguise himself? He has every right to be here, doesn't he? He could have just showed up in person..."

"I'm not sure, but I found out from Professor McGonagall later that Mr. Crouch was _supposed_ to be at a meeting with the Headmasters of all three schools that night."

"Maybe the map was wrong?" Hermione suggested doubtfully.

"It's never been wrong before. It could tell where Peter Pettigrew was even though he was in his rat form."

They sat in silence, pondering what to do. Finally, Hermione said half-heartedly, "I think we might have to do what Professor Flitwick said never to do."

"Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"I mean we'll have to confront him directly about it."

* * *

Harry served only one night of detention with Professor McGonagall for his part in the twins' attempt at sneaking their names into the Goblet of Fire. During that time, his mind was whirling over the possibility of trying to stand face to face with Moody. That man was _scary_. Even with the little bit of duelling training he was getting with Hermione, he knew he'd be completely outclassed by someone who'd made it his career to take down dark wizards. What if he had to duel Moody alone? He wouldn't even survive the first hit! Even if he did, that crazy eye of his would track him as he tried to run away. The prospect of actually confronting Moody was getting crazier and crazier.

Hermione was the one who brought him back down to earth. "We don't have to duel him, you silly. We just have to ask him a few questions. Maybe when the other staff are around. All you really have to do is a tiny bit of Legilimency to see if he's lying or not," she explained. "Although it probably wouldn't hurt to have our wands in hand and ready to cast a _Protego_ though," she added.

They decided it would be safest if they talked to Moody during breakfast, while most of the other staff members were present. Dumbledore's presence alone might make all the difference. They would ask a simple question regarding that particular night, and Harry would concentrate on some surface Legilimency to see if Moody was lying. Of course, someone as paranoid as Moody would undoubtedly have some of the strongest Occlumency shields, but Harry just hoped he'd still be able to detect deception through them.

The next morning, they had a short, light breakfast. Glancing at the map, they made sure it was Moody sitting at the table instead of Crouch. Nodding to each other, they got up from the bench and approached the staff table. Harry gripped his wand in his pocket, ready to draw it at a moment's notice. Hermione had her wand up her left sleeve, fingering the handle with her right hand as they approached. Moody took a swig from his hip-flask as they approached. He eyed the two students that stood in front of him, one eye on each. It was extremely unnerving how he did that.

"Got your hands on your wands already, eh? I'm glad somebody's taking my lessons to heart," he guffawed in a low, throaty growl. The rest of the staff table turned to stare at Harry and Hermione as he said that.

"Planning on attacking a Professor, Potter?" snarled Snape. "Your current fame just isn't enough for you, is it? You just _have_ to find a way to get your name into that Goblet..."

"Please, Severus. Mr. Potter has yet to state his intentions," Dumbledore told the Potions professor.

"Is this about what you told me the night you aided the twins? I can assure you..." McGonagall began.

Harry was unprepared for the sudden flurry of questions and accusations from the staff table. It made him a little more nervous, but when Hermione squeezed his arm, it firmed his resolve. "Professor Moody, I'd just like to ask you a few questions," he stated, looking at Moody directly.

"Ask away, my boy." Moody gave a mean grin, while the rest of the staff suddenly quieted down and watched with keen interest.

"Where were you when the twins set off the alarms around the Goblet?"

"In my office, of course," came the reply. Harry knew that was the truth, but decided to test the mental waters anyways. He pushed lightly with his Legilimency.

"Were you alone at the time?"

"Of course I was," came his answer. Harry felt a mental flicker coming from Moody. Harry never imagined how easy it would be to detect lies on someone like Moody. Trying his luck, he pushed a little deeper, and received a few images. Moody was sitting at his desk, looking at an empty room. He hadn't seen anyone, but... something felt off.

"Are you sure?" The moment he asked the question, the images in Moody's mind focused on the various dark detectors Moody had strewn about the room. Half of them were broken, and the other half seemed to be going off. Suddenly, Harry heard an unfamiliar voice boom within Moody's mindscape, "_You must be alone in your office every night."_ The images of the dark detectors faded instantly.

"Yes," came the reply from Moody. "I'm always alone in my office every night." Harry felt absolutely nothing when Moody gave the reply. No truth, no lies- it was as if he was following an order without any feeling.

_What on earth was that?_ thought Harry. Something was clearly wrong about what he just sensed. He decided to focus on Moody's dark detectors. "Sir, do you make a regular habit of ignoring all the dark detectors you've set up around your office?" Once again, Harry saw a quick flash of the images of Moody's instruments, before the strange voice boomed again, _"You must keep my existence a secret."_

"There weren't any sensors going off, Mr. Potter," growled Moody. Harry felt the conflict inside Moody's head. _Clear lie_, thought Harry. He had to be getting close. Harry felt his heart thumping while his breathing quickened. His palms felt sweaty. He knew it would be tricky, but he had to expose Moody somehow. _Who was giving him these orders?_ he wondered. He then realized it could be the perfect question. He looked at Hermione, giving a small nod which meant "get ready."

"Whose existence must you keep secret, Professor Moody? Who keeps giving you orders?" Harry heard the voice again, booming louder than ever, _"YOU MUST KEEP MY EXISTENCE A SECRET."_ Harry sensed extreme conflict within Moody, as if he was fighting against himself. That was the only warning he received before Moody whipped out his wand, the tip already glowing with a spell ready to fly.

The next few seconds dragged out like hours as the adrenaline burst hit. Harry ducked down as fast as he could, pulling Hermione with him. The first spell missed his head by inches, but Moody's wand wasn't stopping. He tried pulling his wand out of his pocket, but it was twisted in an awkward position as he crouched. Hermione whipped hers out of her sleeve, immediately casting a _Protego_ charm with all her might, just in time to block Moody's second spell. The force of it shattered the shield and threw Hermione several feet back, as she landed on the Hufflepuff table. Harry felt a rush of blind rage when he saw Hermione go flying, second only to his fear that she could be dead. Staying low, he cast the most powerful banishing charm he could at Moody's fake leg. He rolled away from the staff table towards Hermione as the metallic leg flew off of Moody's body and bounced along the back walls. Concentrating on his most powerful shield held behind him, he rushed to his beloved's aid.

Meanwhile, the staff were completely surprised by the sudden attack by Moody. Several watched in shock as Moody launched a silent _Obliviate_ at Harry, followed by a Bludgeoner at Hermione. Dumbledore and Hagrid were the first to react. Right after he had struck Hermione, Moody quickly began animating the tablecloth, which moved to envelope Harry. Dumbledore cancelled the animation while Hagrid used his massive arms to reach right across Professor McGonagall and slam down on Moody's wand. Moody dodged Hagrid's enormous fist, which slammed down on the table, cracking it at the point of impact. Professor Flitwick had somehow moved from the far end of the table and was running on top of it, throwing several immobilization and restraining jinxes at Moody. Completely ignoring Flitwick, he was about to cast another spell at Harry when his leg flew from underneath him, flipping him over as it rocketed away from his body. Dumbledore quickly had him stunned and bound, and removed his wand.

"Yeh alrigh' there, 'Arry?" Hagrid bounded over to Harry.

"I'm fine, Hagrid. It's Hermione..." Harry was cradling her in his arms.

"Oh, stop worrying, Harry... I'll be fine after a visit to the infirmary." Hermione said weakly. She coughed a few times. "Ok, maybe I'll have to stay overnight, but it's not too bad."

"I'm so sorry for putting you through this, Hermione. I never should have brought you into a situation like this."

"Don't be ridiculous. It was my idea in the first place, in case you don't remember."

"Mr. Potter! Miss Granger! Please, come to the infirmary immediately. You can let her go, Mr. Potter, I'll levitate her myself." Madam Pomfrey had made her way from the broken staff table to where the two of them lay. They were quickly escorted away from the shocked stares from the entire student body.

* * *

Amelia Bones never would have imagined herself in this position. She was interrogating her own mentor, the legendary Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. The only reason she received the position of Head of Magical Law Enforcement was that Moody himself had turned it down several times. Where should she even start? Facing the grizzled, veteran auror sitting in front of her, she fell back to basic training.

"Well, Alastor Moody, you have the right to legal counsel before answering any questions..."

"Amelia, quit dillydallying and give me the Veritaserum already," growled Moody. "I've taught you to trust nothing less, and even then, have your doubts to the veracity of the answers."

She only just managed to resist answering with "Yes, sir" as she ordered a vial of Veritaserum to be brought in. Giving Moody the standard dose of three drops, she began the standard interrogation.

"What is your full name?"

"Alastor Maddox Moody."

"Why did you attack Harry Potter and Hermione Granger this morning?"

"I was under the Imperius curse to protect the identity of the one who cast the curse on me. Harry Potter demonstrated that he knew I was under Imperius."

_Who on earth could possibly keep Moody under the Imperius? He could break the Imperius of anyone in the DMLE, _thought Bones. _They must have been close by, if he acted before he could break it._ "How long were you under the curse?"

"Since August 24th, when somebody broke into my home."

The head of the DMLE was floored. Somebody had managed to keep Moody under an Imperius for one and a half months? She had to know what kind of wizard that was. "Who cast the Imperius on you?"

"I don't know."

"Why were you unable to throw off the curse?"

"I was stunned during the attack on my home. I believe I was forced to drink will-weakening potion before the Imperius curse was cast. One of the first commands given to me was to drink some more, and always take another dose at least once every eight hours from my hip-flask." Immediately, Madam Bones told one of her aurors to get the DMLE's resident potions master and have him analyze the contents of the hip flask.

"What other orders have you been given through the Imperius?"

"Act as normally as possible. Do not attempt to discover the identity of my curser. Ensure I am alone in my office every night before bed. Keep the identity of my curser a secret. Drink a sleeping draught each night before bed. Keep the fifth compartment of my trunk unlocked. Continue brewing will-weakening and sleeping potions in secret. Allow myself to be stunned."

Amelia couldn't make heads or tails of the commands. For now, the only thing she could think of doing was to investigate Moody's trunk, which she ordered another subordinate to do. The rest of the orders all seemed to be centered around concealing the identity of Moody's attacker. This would be a tough case to crack.

"Amelia, the Veritaserum's wearing off," Moody informed her. "Any last questions?"

"When was the last order given to you?"

"Four days ago, the night Harry Potter was questioning me about," Moody answered, with the gruff vigor returning to his voice. The Veritaserum had completely worn off. "Amelia, let me be frank with you. I have no idea what their objective was, but if I had to guess, it's assassination."

"What makes you say that? Who's the target?" asked Amelia.

"I don't know, but since I was assigned to be the head of security for the Triwizard Tournament, that could mean anyone from Dumbledore to the Minister of Magic in Bulgaria. There's going to be plenty of officials that will attend the event over the course of the year. My guess is I was supposed to be a sleeper agent."

"This is a disaster, Moody. We can't cancel the event now, Fudge won't hear of it. It would be an international scandal. We'll need additional security for all the officials and VIPs who are attending..."

"Not just that, Amelia. You're going to have to redo the entire security protocol. I don't remember giving the plans out, but that doesn't mean I haven't been obliviated while I was imperiused or something like that. Security's been compromised. Start from scratch. I'd like you, or one of your most trustworthy Aurors, to take over the management of the entire event. There's no way I can continue on as the head of security for the Triwizard. I'm a liability now."

Amelia Bones nodded. Moody may have been paranoid, but that certainly wasn't without reason. And this time, he had plenty of reasons to be as paranoid as possible. There were less than three short weeks before the Choosing of the Champions. She'd need to begin her work as quickly as possible.

* * *

Harry Potter sat on his usual infirmary bed, rather surprised he had come out of the fight with nothing more than a few scratches. He refused to lie down; instead, he held Hermione's hand as she lay on the bed next to him. She smiled before drinking a dose of Skele-Gro, then winced. Harry knew how disgusting the potion was. At least she only needed one small dose to heal a few of her ribs, instead of having to regrow an entire arm.

"You know, I think Malfoy might have had the right idea in Defense..." Harry began.

"What are you talking about?"

"A wand holster. Obviously he was too stupid to use his properly, but I got my wand caught inside my pants pocket. I needed to be faster. You saved me, Hermione."

"You _were_ faster, though. You ducked out of the way of the spell before I realized what was going on. You just needed to have your wand in a better position."

"Which is why I'm going to owl Ollivander's to see if he sells any wand holsters as soon as we get out of here. You saved me with that _Protego_, Hermione."

"I saw you coming to my rescue as soon as I got knocked down, you know. My knight in shining armour." She gave a devilish grin.

"Oh, do you expect me to carry you off on a white horse, now?" Harry started joking.

"No, I want a unicorn." Hermione was giggling now.

"My love, you know that men can't ride unicorns. How about an Abraxan? I'd steal one from Beauxbatons just for you."

"Oh, my very own Bellopheron!" Hermione placed the back of her hand on her forehead in a mock swoon. The two of them couldn't stop themselves from laughing.

"They do say laughter is the best medicine, although I won't doubt dear Poppy's potions," came a grandfatherly voice from the foot of the bed. The headmaster had walked into the room while they were joking around. "Mr. Potter, I do have a few questions to ask of you, if you don't mind."

"About Moody, you mean? Ask away."

"How did you come to suspect Moody was... shall we say, compromised?"

"It was on the night of the twins' attempt at the Goblet, Headmaster. I was on lookout for the twins, when I saw Moody approaching, but it wasn't actually him." Harry answered evasively, trying not to give away the secret of the Marauder's Map.

"I believe Professor McGonagall told me a very similar story to yours, Harry. However, she did say you suspected the person in disguise was Bartemius Crouch. Why did you name him in particular?"

Harry knew there was no getting away from this one. "Err... well, I have a special map, you see. It shows the location of everyone in the castle, labelled with their names. The dot labelled Bartemius Crouch was approaching, but it was definitely Moody's body."

"Harry, I have to inform you that I, along with Madam Maxime, Headmaster Karkaroff, and Minister Fudge were all meeting with Director Crouch that evening. We passed through several security checks within the ministry and he never left the meeting, not even for a bathroom break. He couldn't have been in the castle at the time."

"But... the map's never been wrong before..."

"Harry, could I see the map? Do you have it with you?" Dumbledore eyed him with a keen interest as Harry pulled the map out.

"To activate it, you have to tap it with your wand and say 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good.'"

Dumbledore said the words, and a brief look of surprise passed over his face. He then watched the map for a minute before casting a few diagnostic spells, turning the piece of parchment over several times in his hands.

"Harry, do you know how this map works?"

"Err... I'm not sure." He quickly glanced at Hermione, who also shook her head and shrugged. "I'm guessing there's a bunch of tracking charms and some kind of identity charm on it..."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Unfortunately, it's not nearly as powerful or complex as you imagine. It's quite ingenious in its simplicity, actually. All it does is read some of the information pulled from the Hogwarts wards and display it on the parchment. Most of the charms here are simply self-writing and animated-ink spells, along with the password security."

"Oh... I had no idea. What does that mean for me, though?" asked Harry. He couldn't quite see where the Headmaster was going with this.

"It means that the map could easily be subverted. I doubt that most intruders would know to specifically mask themselves from a rather specialized device like this, but for one who had a hand in its creation, and was caught by the very same map last year..."

"Wormtail!" Harry nearly shouted. Thinking about the escaped rat boiled his blood. He desperately wanted to catch him... chase him down as the little sneak tried to run... dive down from above and snatch the little rodent in his talons...

Dumbledore's voice snapped him out of his short, emotional daydream. "Harry, don't worry yourself over this. I think I shall make my own version of this map to keep in my office... with a few personal improvements, of course. You can have yours back. Don't worry, we'll be on the lookout for him from now on."

"Uh, yes, sir."

"Oh, you and Miss Granger can take twenty-five points each for displaying extraordinary courage and a strong sense of justice by standing up to Professor Moody. You can also take an additional twenty-five points each for an excellently performed shield charms and banishing charms against a veteran magical combatant." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily as he strode out of the infirmary.

* * *

Over the next week, Harry and Hermione were both getting awed looks from students. Nobody was crazy enough to take on Mad-Eye, and certainly few had enough confidence to even _survive_ a duel against him. Even several of the Durmstrang students, all of whom were very powerful six and seventh year students, were impressed and smiling at them as they passed in the hallways. Evidently, stories of Moody's skill and power had spread over as far as eastern Europe, despite most of his work occurring in Britain and occasionally the west coast of the continent. The only Hogwarts students brave enough to approach them were their friends, who congratulated them on a spectacular display. The only student bold, or stupid, enough to actually get on his nerves was the one Draco Malfoy.

"It's a shame Moody didn't hit a bit harder, he could have ridded the world of one more Mud-"

He never managed to finish that sentence. Harry used the same powerful banishing charm on Draco, blasting him straight into Goyle, who was standing right behind him, smashing both of them into a broom closet. Vincent Crabbe stood there in shock, overwhelmed by the raw display of power, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. The crowd around them were silent for a while, but then many of the Gryffindors and Durmstrang students began applauding. Several others followed suit.

Fred and George looked at each other and nodded. Fred ran into the broom closet where Malfoy and Goyle still lay, unconscious. George grabbed Harry's shoulder and whispered, "Don't worry, Harry, we'll take care of this." He quickly joined his brother and began transfiguring Malfoy's robes.

Apparently, Viktor Krum was one of the witnesses. He walked up to Harry, offering his hand. "I am sorry I did not introduce myself properly at party. I am Viktor Krum. You are Harry Potter, yes?"

Harry took his hand and shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Krum."

"I must admit I vas getting wrong impression of you. You are very famous, even in Bulgaria, and you are rich, much like little blonde boy." Viktor smirked. "But you are not like little boy, you fight like real man. You show real strength. Durmstrang vould be happy to haff student like you."

Harry nodded, accepting the compliment. "Thank you, Mr. Krum. I'm glad there are pure-blooded wizards who strive to be more than just an heir to a name."

"Yes, names are meaningless ven faced vith skill. I hear you are also very skilled vith broom, best in school yes?"

Harry nodded. "I'm a seeker, like you. Although I have to admit I'm nowhere near your skill level. I was at the World Cup, and I think just watching you play taught me a lot."

Krum laughed. "We must play sometime, then. Perhaps at end of year, after I vin Tournament, yes?"

Harry chuckled with him. "Yes, I'd love that. I'll be cheering for the Hogwarts champion, though, but good luck to you too, Mr. Krum."

As the group of Durmstrang students walked away, Harry turned around to see what the twins had been up to. Draco's robes had been turned a rather frilly pink, and the twins had sprouted hickeys all over his neck. Goyle had received similar treatment. "Come on, let's try to find Colin and his camera before any professors get here..." Fred suggested, as they both scurried away.

Harry managed to get away with only one weekend of detention, as nobody wanted to cross Harry after that. All the students, save the Slytherins, testified that it was Malfoy who had provoked the attack. Even some of the Durmstrang students took pleasure in mocking what they saw as the weakest house in Hogwarts. The twins were quick to accept their share of the blame, using the publicity to drum up a bit more excitement for their WWW products, and try to sell photos of the incident in question.

* * *

Professor Moody returned to Hogwarts after a week away. After several serious interrogations and medical checkups, the investigators at the DMLE determined he was still the Light-oriented, retired Auror they all knew, with no lingering effects or other deeply hidden orders from the Imperius curse. The investigators still couldn't determine the identity of the infiltrator, and as Peter Pettigrew was still officially listed as deceased, none of them could take Dumbledore's advice to investigate that lead. Moody's suggestion that there would be a possible assassination attempt was the most likely, and they began stationing extra Aurors at Hogsmeade, with two patrolling the Hogwarts grounds itself at all times. Kingsley Shacklebolt was now directing security around the Triwizard Tournament, and was doing a fairly good job for someone who had only two weeks to redo everything before the champions would be chosen. Moody, taking caution to the extreme, had suggested that he not return to Hogwarts at all, but since there were no more traces of any influences on his will, and since Dumbledore couldn't find a replacement Defense professor in time, he agreed to return to his teaching post.

Some of the students had heard the rumours. Mad-Eye Moody was under the Imperius the whole time by some dark wizard. Some held hope that his brutal style of teaching was a reflection of the one controlling him. Most of them enjoyed the one-week break without defense classes. They waited for the return of their teacher, the first day classes would resume, hoping to see a change in personality from their professor. As Moody walked into the room, he immediately began tossing silent full-body-binds at the class. Tables and chairs bounced as bodies in a seated position suddenly snapped straight as a plank and fell to the floor. Harry and Hermione, who had learned quickly from the experience at breakfast a week ago, both quickly snapped their wands up from their holsters. Unlike Malfoy, who had arrogantly purchased a professional's wand-holster that simply threw the wand into the caster's hand, they bought the beginner's model, which snapped it upwards and held it at their palms. It wasn't quite as fast or as flexible to use, but it did let them grip their wands easily despite the chaos. They protected themselves with the shield charm.

"Good job, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. Glad to see you two didn't let your skills waste away like the rest of the class," grunted Moody. To the rest of the class, he barked, "One week, and that's all it takes for you to soften like sponges. What have I been teaching you? Constant vigilance!" He began pacing across the room.

"Even with my skill and security measures, I was still captured by a Dark wizard and placed under an Imperius. How do you maggots think you'll do out in the real world? This is Defense Against the Dark Arts, and none of you managed to put up any defences, other than Mr. Potter and Miss Granger here. It looks like I'm going to have to push all of you even harder to get it into your thick skulls. _Why are you still sitting there without your wands in your hands?_" When he shouted the last line, the half of the class that was still empty-handed scrambled for their wands while desperately trying to dodge the unending stream of stinging hexes coming from Moody. It was going to be a very, _very_ long year.

After class, Harry and Hermione stayed behind. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger. I'm glad you two managed to free me from that damned curse. You certainly seem to take my advice to heart, probably even more so than the rest of the staff here." Moody chuckled in amusement, which came out as more like a throaty rumble of a revving motor. "I'd like to thank you for what you managed to for me, but I'm not quite sure what I can offer you."

The two students looked at each other, unsure of what to make of his offer. Tenatively, Harry asked, "Well, we both know you're quite skilled at combat, sir. Could you teach us some? Last week when we fought, we both managed to do little more than raise our shields, and the other staff members took care of the rest."

Moody roared in laughter. "You really take your security to heart, don't you? Splendid idea, lad. How about a spot of training each weekend? Meet me at the edge of the Forbidden Forest after breakfast on Saturday."

Harry and Hermione both nodded. "That sounds perfect, sir."

"Oh, and let me give you an old Auror's training handbook, circa 1950. It's better than the ones they use today, in my opinion. They lowered the entry requirements in the 70's to get more recruits to fight Voldemort, but didn't bother raising them again. It should tide you over if you have any extra spare time. Follow the exercise regime if you can."

Hermione leapt at the chance to read the book. They were never given to the general public, and to be able to learn a few tricks from law enforcement itself was a rare opportunity. They were completely finished with the first duelling book they had purchased over the summer and had begun work on the second. Still, both books focused on formal, rule-enforced duelling, and the auror's handbook would give them much better advice in real combat situations. They thanked their professor, and began reading the book that very evening.


	12. The Fourth One

**Author's Notes: **HP not mine, bleh.

- Yay, I think i'll finally be able to start the tournament next chapter... maybe. I'm making up a lot of this as I go along, so who knows? =)

- I made up a few French and Bulgarian names in this chapter. Tell me if they sound about right, I can probably still change them. I'll just say they have very little impact on the story as a whole.

* * *

**Chapter 12: The Fourth One**

Ron and Neville found them both sitting on the common room couch, flipping through their newly acquired book. Harry and Hermione both had the feeling they'd read it before, as everything seemed more like a review than new information. There was a lot of mostly-useless information, like proper uniform for formal events, the different salutes, or correct methods of filing a report. There were several chapters of that before they got to the heart of the matter- squad tactics, paired combat, solo combat, and tactics for many common violent "incidents." There was also an entire reconnaissance section, which dealt with privacy charms, eavesdropping charms, disillusionment and silencing charms, as well as psychological tricks. They were wary about whether or not they should learn and practice the "muggle management" section, but Hermione suggested, in her wisdom, it was better to know them and not use them than the other way around. Before they were even halfway through reading the book, Harry and Hermione agreed- being an Auror was hard work. No wonder the training program was three years long, with almost half of the applicants dropping out before finishing.

"Hey you two. You two have taken to sharing a book now? Why don't you use that book you got for Hermione's birthday?" asked Neville.

They turned to each other for a second with blank looks. Hermione ran upstairs to grab her Library Tome. While she was upstairs, Harry answered Neville. "Err, we were kind of excited about this one. We both just wanted to read it right away."

"What's so exciting about it? It looks like it's falling apart," said Ron. It was true, as many of the pages were tattered and the bindings were loose. At least there weren't any pages missing.

"It's an old version of the Auror's handbook. Moody prefers it to the modern version, actually," Harry answered. "It's got lots of useful information in it."

Just then, Hermione came back downstairs with her special tome, and they immediately copied the book. Hermione immediately began reading the handbook on the much nicer tome. Harry held out the old, tattered version and offered to Neville and Ron, "You guys want to take a look?"

"I'd love to!" Neville exclaimed, taking the handbook from Harry and sitting on a seat next to them. "My... my parents were aurors... I'd like to know a bit more about them..." He suddenly went quiet as he stared at the book in his hands.

"Maybe you could ask Moody about them? I'm sure they fought together in the last war..." Harry suggested. "He's also offered to train us in magical combat on Saturday mornings."

"Whoa! Moody's going to train you guys personally?" Ron had nothing but astonishment in his face. "Can I come too? What time in the morning?"

Neville was a bit hesitant, but upon seeing Ron's enthusiasm, followed his lead. "I'd like to try, too..." he said half-heartedly.

"What time did he say, exactly?" Harry asked Hermione.

Recalling the conversation, she answered, "He just said 'after breakfast.'"

"Oh, good," said Ron. "Breakfast on Saturdays goes until eleven. That's perfect!"

Harry frowned. "I get the feeling he meant after _his_ breakfast, Ron."

Hermione got the same idea. "And I don't think Moody is the type to sleep in. Breakfast is served as early as seven on weekends..."

Ron's face fell. He was completely conflicted between the idea of waking up earlier on a weekend and getting training to be a magical combatant, one of the few things that none of his brothers had mastered. Bill was excellent with runes and wards, Charlie was fantastic at both Quidditch and beast-handling, Percy was a suck-up who managed paperwork well, the twins were excellent at potions and transfiguration... Ron had yet to find his own specialty. Other than chess, of course. He resolved to get up early on Saturday to see if Moody would train him as well.

* * *

The weekend took far too long to arrive, and when the first ray of light shone through the windows of the boys' dorm, Harry and Neville bounded out of bed. Ron was still fast asleep. Neville said, "I'll get him up, Harry."

Harry nodded, moving to the bathroom for a quick shower. Once he was clean and changed, he strode out the door, noticing that Neville had, somehow, managed to get Ron to flip around his bed with his feet at his pillows, but without managing to wake him up. "_Aguamenti_ helps a lot, Neville," he advised his roommate as he left.

Harry and Hermione made their way down to the Great Hall, glad to see that Moody was still eating when they arrived. They nodded to him as they sat down and began their own breakfast. No more than five minutes later, Moody had finished and was walking out the doors, giving them only a quick glance before he did. Harry quickly gulped down some pumpkin juice and wrapped some sausage in napkins, while Hermione grabbed a few slices of toast. As they had hoped, they ran into Neville, who was dragging Ron, as they left the Great Hall.

"Here, guys. We got you a spot of breakfast," Harry said, handing Neville the sausage.

"What? I get up at this ungodly hour and you don't even let me eat a pr...oommwph," cried Ron, before Hermione shoved the toast she was holding in his mouth.

"Be quiet, Ronald. You didn't get up at all, from what I heard. Neville did all the work," she scolded. "Just be glad we saved you some breakfast at all."

Professor Moody could move very quickly, despite his peg leg. Harry and Hermione were only a few second behind him in leaving the Great Hall, but the short meeting with Neville and Ron nearly made them lose sight of the old auror. Running past Hagrid's hut, Hermione stopped all of them. "I think we should have our wands ready."

Everyone suddenly tensed up. That was certainly Moody's style. They took out their wands and continued moving towards the edge of the forest, slowly. Suddenly seeing some movement from the forest, they turned to face what they expected to be Moody, but it turned out to be a small, blonde girl who wasn't paying much attention to them. They approached her carefully, and Neville was the first to recognize who she was. "That's Luna Lovegood. She's a Ravenclaw... I've seen her talking to the plants in the greenhouses when I work there."

Both Harry and Hermione were once again struck by unclear images when they heard Luna's name. She was practicing spellwork with them. She was fighting a battle in an unfamiliar place... they were back to back, defending each other. She was trustworthy, and they _had_ to make sure she was their friend. Harry quickly walked up to her and extended his hand. "I'm Harry Potter. You're Luna Lovegood, right?"

Luna turned to look at Harry, and then appeared to inspect the air around him before replying, "Yes, you're a very interesting one." She took his hand, turning it back and forth like she was looking for something on his palm, and smiled. She then just stared at Harry, which unnerved him. He was expecting weird from her, but the problem with expecting weird is that your own mind has to be weird enough to anticipate all the possibilities.

Hermione greeted her to break the tension, asking, "What brings you out to the forest so early in the morning, Luna?"

Luna inspected her the same way, except she grabbed Hermione's hand and held it towards the sun, watching the rays slip past her fingers. "Yes," she said, "You did."

"Excuse me?" Hermione was confused by the girl's actions, and then thrown completely off by her words.

"The blibbering humdingers were saying you two kept things very interesting for them. They never know what to expect now that you're now instead of then, but don't worry, they like it when things are interesting. They told me it might be fun to meet you here today," answered Luna. She then smiled at Hermione, as if expecting her to ask another question. It took Hermione a minute to recover.

"Wait, what do you mean? What are blibbering humdingers? They talk to you?" Hermione had trouble figuring out what to ask first.

"Of course! They like to hang around you two especially, because things are never the same twice, but you two aren't even the same once. They like to blabber a lot, so that's why they're called blibbering humdingers. They're much better to talk to than the blubbering ones," answered Luna, matter-of-factly.

Harry was just staring at her in utter confusion. Ron was whispering to Neville about "Loony." Hermione took another two minutes to finally comprehend what Luna might have been talking about. She probably could have figured it out faster if Luna wasn't staring at her the whole time, in an eerily serene manner. She pulled Harry close, and said, "I think she might know something about the time travel."

"How's that possible? Nobody knows about it except us..."

"Maybe it's got something to do with those blabbing hummers or..."

"Blibbering Humdingers," interrupted Luna, who apparently had overheard their whispers. "Oh, do be careful." She grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him, just as they noticed a streak of red light fly from what seemed to be an empty part of the grass in front of the forest. Ron fell in front of Luna and got hit by the spell, instantly falling unconscious on the ground. Harry, Hermione, and Neville quickly had their wands pointing at a now-visible shimmer from the field.

"Did you forget you were supposed to be meeting me?" asked Moody, who suddenly appeared as he cancelled the disillusionment spell . "One little girl is all it takes for you to let your guard down, eh? Thought I taught you all better than that." Turning to Luna, he said, "Can't say the same about you, although I wouldn't recommend using your own friends as shields."

"I wouldn't either," replied Luna simply.

Professor Moody only hesitated slightly at her response before reviving Ron. "Well, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I do recall saying that I would give you two lessons in magical combat, but I not these other three. I suppose you're all interested?"

Ron and Neville nodded, while Luna asked, "Magical combat? That sounds interesting. Could I join in too?"

Ron protested, "What? But she's not our friend. She's not even a Gryffindor! What's she doing here anyways?"

Hermione felt an overwhelming need to protect Luna, and stepped in between them. "For your information, Ronald, we're perfectly fine with making new friends, even if you aren't." Turning to Luna, she said, "You're welcome to join us, Luna, if Professor Moody is willing to teach us."

"That I am, but don't expect me to slow down for your sakes. I'm jumping right into the advanced material, which I'm pretty sure you and Mr. Potter can handle, given what I've seen of your talents. The rest of you will have to catch up on your own time if you can't handle it."

When they all agreed, Moody began the first lesson. "I have to say I'm impressed with your skill in the mental arts, lad. I may have been under will-weakening potion at the time, but for any fourteen-year-old to know legilimency can be quite an advantage in battle. I take it this means you have occlumency shields as well?"

Harry, Hermione, and Neville nodded, while Ron frowned. Luna just continued her serene gaze at the old professor. "Right, I'm going to check every one of you for your occlumency first. Weasley, you're first."

After a few seconds of staring, Ron asked, "Err... what's happening?"

Moody snorted in disapproval. "You haven't got any shields at all, do you, boy? You couldn't even tell that I was in your mind. I even found the memory where your friends here tried to teach you occlumency, so why haven't you practiced?"

"I... er... it didn't seem like much use...?" stammered Ron, clearly fearing his Defense professor.

"Well, now you know, don't you? Get practicing!" barked Moody, as he moved on to Luna. "You didn't say you practiced occlumency either, did you?" He entered her mind, expecting something similar to Ron's. What he found was, instead, memories mashed together, and he couldn't figure out whether they were real, fake, or what was one or another. He tried to concentrate on a simple memory like her first class with him, but instead received an image of a half-giant, Lockhart-faced werewolf teaching potions with a hippogriff, outside of Hogwarts with the sun shining in the middle of the night. Even though he _knew _exactly what the memory should have been, every time he stripped away inconsistencies the memory mutated. He then tried to tap into her memory of breakfast that morning, but received an image of her cooking bacon in a cauldron in front of a greasy bat, while a flaming horse lay underneath providing the heat. The bacon smelled like chocolate, and the heat from the flames felt like being prickled by a cactus. He pulled out in utter confusion. "Well, although I have to say you don't have any shields... you might not need them," he grunted to Luna. Harry, Hermione, and Neville looked at Luna, wondering what Moody meant.

"You're next," he said, walking in front of Neville. Upon entering his mind, Moody found himself standing outside of a glass dome, with many plants inside, obviously representing various memories. Neville had yet to pack all his memories inside the dome, although the several trivial memories were sprouting on the ground around him. Moody inspected them, ensuring there was nothing important outside the defences. He found random things like how Neville always put on his right shoe first each morning, as well as a few assorted memories from the last day that Neville had yet to sort. He hammered at the dome until it was about to crack, and saw the strain on Neville's face at keeping his mind intact. He pulled back before he broke through completely. "Not too shabby, lad. It'll hold off just about everyone who's skimming for memories, and you can probably hold off a serious attacker for a minute. Keep working on it."

He checked Harry next. "What in hell's flaming nursery is that thing?" he exclaimed. Moody was rarely ever surprised, but finding himself inside Harry's mind, faced with an interstellar battleship, certainly took him for a loop. It was huge, it was mean, and when every turret pointed in his direction, Moody knew it was a threat, even if he didn't understand exactly what they were.

"It's a _Seige Perilous_ class destroyer. I read about it when I was on vacation with Hermione," answered Harry with a smile. He knew that if he could catch Moody off guard, he'd be able to throw off nearly any wizard. "Pew Pew!" he added.

Moody suddenly pulled out of Harry's mind as the spaceship fired its lasers. "Well, I have to say your mind is pretty well defended, lad." Harry smirked, knowing that Moody wasn't aware that the spaceship was only defending trivial memories, and his important ones were tucked away even deeper.

"Alright, Miss Granger. Let's see if yours is as good as Harry's." Entering her mind, he found himself in complete darkness. Moving around felt difficult and disorienting. He only had a few seconds to attempt to search for any memories before he was wrapped up in scaly, spiky tentacles, pulling him towards a gigantic, razor-toothed jaw. He struggled to get out of the mindscape just in time. "I have a feeling you let me go, Miss Granger. I dare say you're even more aggressive than Mr. Potter here. What was that creature?"

"Oh, I saw a few documentaries on creatures of the deepest parts of the ocean, and I started combining aspects of several into one big monster. There's bits of a giant squid, anglerfish, some giant isopod, jellyfish stingers, and a few other animals mashed together. Oh, and when I need to it can also provide a very soothing light show," Hermione said proudly. She was showing quite a bit of restraint not describing each individual animal in detail.

"That's very good. Mr. Weasley, you've got a lot of catching up to do." Moody began. "Now, how have you been practicing?"

"We meditate and work on organizing our minds, and then Harry and I test each other through Legilimency. We help with Neville as well," Hermione answered.

"So you've never practiced it during classes?" Moody asked. They all shook their heads. "Or while flying your brooms?" Harry and Hermione shook their heads again in mild embarrassment. "You need to keep your defences up all the time! That means mental defences as well as your wands!"

"Now, we're going to have a quick little duel right now. If you can't keep me from reading your thoughts in the middle of a fight, you'll have no chance of even hitting me. Potter, you're first."

For the next several hours, all the way until lunch, they strained to keep their mental shields up continuously as Moody always seemed to hobble an inch out of the path of their spells every time, while tossing several of his own back at them. Luna seemed to be the only one who had any chance of hitting the professor, being completely unpredictable to him. Unfortunately, there was still no way for her to win as her spells were relatively weak, easily being absorbed or deflected by Moody's shield. Ron, of course, didn't have a chance as Moody walked closer and closer to him while dodging every spell until he got close enough to rap Ron on the head with his cane.

"Here's what you need to practice for next week. Keep your occlumency up every moment you're awake. Don't wait for someone to intrude before you throw up your defences. Hopefully by next week you'll be used to it, and we can begin on the offensive."

* * *

The next two weeks were extremely tiring, to put it lightly. They practiced keeping their mindscapes up continuously, sorting memories as soon as they gained them, all Sunday long. By midday Harry and Hermione were peaked, but right when they sat down for lunch, they could feel Moody suddenly hammer them with a legilimency probe from the staff table. He certainly wasn't going easy on them. Harry and Hermione realized it was much more difficult for them to keep their defences up than Neville, mostly because theirs were far more complex. Harry thought of simplifying it again, but Hermione insisted they keep practicing with the defences they had, hoping it would get easier with more practice. She was right, since on Monday they could last at least past lunch, and by Friday they could hold it until dinner.

Out of curiosity, Hermione asked Luna if she would allow her to perform legilimency to find out what Moody was talking about. She came out of it completely baffled, wondering if it was possible for them to emulate it. Harry had to perform legilimency on Luna himself because Hermione couldn't quite describe what she saw, and he was equally confused. They realized manipulating their own memories was a lot of work, and to have them mashed together as bizarrely as Luna did would take a lot of effort for them. Luna, however, seemed to organize her mind this way naturally.

Ron decided to drop the extra lessons after the next Saturday, deciding that given the amount of catching up he needed to do with Occlumency, combined with the loss of a day of sleeping in, was too much. Luna, however, had gladly joined them the following week. Moody taught Neville and Luna the basics of Legilimency, while Harry and Hermione attempted to figure out which spells each one was going to cast before they cast it using some surface scanning. Holding up their own shields while attacking each other's, on top of physically moving and magically casting spells, tired them out completely in less than two hours. Moody was rather disappointed but managed to squeeze another half-hour of duelling out of them after some rest. For the rest of the week, they had to constantly hit each other with Legilimency as well as keeping up their shields, once again nearly tiring them out by lunch. They also offered to help Neville and Luna with their Legilimency skills each evening, using an empty classroom to practice since Luna couldn't enter the Gryffindor common room.

The third Saturday, the last weekend before the Triwizard's Choosing of Champions, was the worst one yet. Moody certainly wasn't kidding when he said his training was going to be hard- this time they had to chase each other through the woods while, keeping aware of their constantly-changing environment while keeping track of their opponent and keeping their mental shields up. Once again, Moody surprised them all with the mobility he had, and they were all beginning to suspect that his false leg was probably less of a handicap and more of an enhancement for him, much like his eye. None of them lasted until lunch, after which Harry and Hermione were both leaning on each other for support. The two of them wandered up to the Room of Requirement to take an afternoon nap, feeling it would give them more comfortable beds and far greater privacy.

"You know, the other students are enjoying the day as a Hogsmeade weekend," said Hermione, as they lay on an extremely soft couch in each other's arms.

Harry got the clue instantly. "I'll make it up to you, my love. Can we just lay here and pretend it's a date?"

"No! You're going to have to take me on a proper date next Hogsmeade weekend."

Harry summoned up a little bit of strength and hit her with a burst of Legilimency to see if he could find out exactly what she wanted. She was aching all over, and she wanted to relax. "Oho, but what if I give you a massage right here?" asked Harry.

"That's cheating!" giggled Hermione. "But I'm not going to say no." She took off her robes and sweater, leaving a tank-top on. Harry gave a hopeful look, and Hermione smirked. "Oh no, you're not getting any more than this. Now get to work!" she laughed as she flopped face down on the couch. Harry carefully placed his hands on her shoulders, noticing the runes he had etched into her back were now giving a barely visible glow and pulsing faintly. He began kneading her shoulders and her neck gently, afraid of hurting her.

"Harder, Harry, I can barely feel it." Harry began pushing down with more weight, pressing his thumbs into the base of her neck while rubbing her shoulders with his palms.

"I was worried I would hurt you... do you feel anything from these scars?" Harry asked. He suddenly felt her tense up, and he stopped his massage.

"Do... do they... oh, they must be disgusting to look at... I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said, nearly getting up. "We shouldn't have done this."

Pushing her back down as gently as he could, Harry said, "No, Hermione. I told you that you were beautiful when I was carving these runes, and you're still beautiful now. I'm just worried that... well, I might have done something wrong and they might not have healed properly. Does anything hurt?"

Harry could feel Hermione calm down as her breathing evened out. "Thank you, Harry. You did everything right. I can't even feel the runes, and I sometimes forget they're there." She relaxed more and closed her eyes. "Can you move lower? The middle of my back... yes, just below the shoulder blades... right there... mmm..." Harry continued the massage for half an hour, until he was certain Hermione was asleep. Feeling completely spent himself, he flopped down beside her, with his head resting on her back.

* * *

Once again, he found himself flying. He knew right from the beginning that he had to look for Hermione this time. He flew along the coast, searching for her. Where could she be this time? Seeing a fuzzy brown speck down on the ground, he dove towards it. He'd found her, but she wasn't alone. There was a scarred, blue eyeball rolling around. It was going to hurt her! He snatched up the eyeball, flying out to the sea and dropped it. Returning to Hermione, he landed beside her. She stared at him with big, dark brown eyes, regarding him curiously. The short brown feathers on her head were slightly ruffled, giving her a very soft, bushy appearance. She chirped to him to follow, where she led him to a hole in the ground. Hopping in, she led him deeper and deeper until they found themselves in the Chamber of Secrets at school. Hermione glanced around, spotting something. She hooted to Harry, alerting him of the danger. Harry flew over and saw a snake swimming just below the surface of the water, so he dove down, snatched it out. Hermione flew up to join him as they carried the snake away.

Harry woke rather peacefully. "I wonder what that was," he mused. He discovered they had both shifted in their sleep, and Harry now had his arms wrapped protectively around Hermione.

"Yeah, me too. You were the osprey, weren't you, Harry?" Hermione had woken up at the same time.

"Yeah... wait, how did you know what I was? Were we dreaming the same dream?"

"I don't know... but it felt like a continuation of our animagus dream. What was I? I had no idea I was able to fly until the end."

"You were an owl, Hermione. A small brown one. I don't know what type, though..."

"A burrowing owl! This whole time I was looking up burrowing animals like rats and squirrels and rabbits because the last dream I had this instinct to run underground a lot. I'm an owl?" She laughed.

"Well, you were certainly a very cute owl," said Harry. He thought about it for a second, and laughed. "And it fits you so well! The feathers and everything! And the fact that you'd rather walk than fly... until I got there..."

"Well, I think the osprey fit you very well, too, Harry. You had jet-black feathers on your head instead of the usual white... and the green eyes told me it was you for sure. And you certainly love doing those daring dives when you play Quidditch."

"I'm glad we finally found our forms, Hermione. I honestly think... I wouldn't be an animagus without you."

"And I wouldn't want to be one without you. Thank you, Harry. I'm glad we'll be able to fly together... in human or animal form."

* * *

Monday classes were cancelled, so the students and staff could prepare for the Halloween Feast as well as the Choosing of the Champions. Early in the morning, dozens of extra aurors arrived to ensure extra security around Hogwarts, and especially around the Great Hall. Even an exorcist had arrived, threatening Peeves with a permanent banishment if he didn't behave for the day. Early in the afternoon, many officials began arriving, including Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch. Several reporters had already begun to interview the potential champions, as well as some of the staff members for their favourite picks. Hermione, knowing that reporters rarely ever got a chance to come on campus, knew that a few of them were likely to use the opportunity to ambush Harry and get an article on him, decided to spend as much of the day as possible in the Gryffindor tower. Harry certainly didn't mind, and thanked her for the most excellent excuse to spend most of a day snogging on a couch.

They only came downstairs when it was time for the feast itself. They quickly moved to the tables so no reporters would have time to see or stop Harry for an interview. The school staff were no longer sitting at the staff table, as the table was now being used for high-ranking officials. There were many more officials than before- beside Mr. Crouch were his foreign counterparts; the French director of international relations, Jean-Pierre Armand; and the Bulgarian Administrator of Foreign Affairs, Boris Petrinovich. Sitting beside Headmaster Dumbledore were Madam Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff, and to their left were the heads of states. The Minister for Magic of Britain Cornelius Fudge was flanked by the French President of Magic Jules Dupuis to his left and the Bulgarian High Governor Vladmir Georgiev to his right. Hermione was pointing out several others to Harry, but he was beginning to lose track. All he knew was that there were a lot of important people present, which explained all the aurors standing at the ready behind them. After about an hour of introductions, national anthems and other standard formalities, the actual choosing would begin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards, welcome to the first Triwizard Tournament in over two hundred years!" Dumbledore announced to the crowd. "Hogwarts is very honoured to be the school to host this historic event for its revival. The cup is nearly ready to choose its champions for each school. When the cup chooses a champion, please stand up and allow yourself to be escorted over to the room to my left."

The cup's flames turned from blue to yellow, and then it suddenly spat out a piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it, and announced, "The champion from Hogwarts is... Cedric Diggory!" There was tremendous applause from all the students of Hogwarts, but especially from the Hufflepuffs. It surprised a few students, but Harry felt it was rather appropriate. Most students from other houses would be representing their own house as well as Hogwarts, but a Hufflepuff, known for their loyalty, would represent the entire school best. Cedric got up, waved to everybody, bowed to a few and made his way over to the champion's room.

The applause died down when the flames of the cup turned yellow once more. Another piece of parchment sprang into the air and into Dumbledore's hands. "The champion from Durmstrang is... Viktor Krum!" Large rounds of applause came not only from his own school, but his many Quidditch fans in the audience. He was a very predictable choice- Krum was not only famous for his professional quidditch skills, but he was known to be an aggressive dueller and spellcaster as well. He stood up with a proud expression, but didn't allow any excitement to show on his face. He made his way over to the champion's room as well.

Once again, the hall quieted down as the flames turned yellow. The third piece of parchment shot out. Dumbledore announced, "The champion from Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour!" The applause wasn't quite as strong, as Delcour didn't seem to be very well known outside of her school. The Beauxbatons students didn't spend much time associating with Hogwarts students over the past month, choosing to be far friendlier with the Bulgarians. It seemed that the French-English rivalries remained extremely strong in the magical world. The girl herself, although not well known, was well-noticed. She was easily the most beautiful girl in the room. When she stood up, nearly every single male present was unable to take his eyes off her. She carried herself haughtily, making a point of ignoring every person who was lusting after her as she walked to the champion's room.

"Congratulations to Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum, and Fleur Delacour! These three champions will now be briefed..." The headmaster paused as the goblet's flame turned yellow again. It spat out one last piece of parchment. It dropped in front of Dumbledore, who was caught off guard and unsure of what to do with it. Picking it up, he read out the name. "The... fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament... is Harry Potter."

As the entire room turned to focus on him, he whispered to Hermione, "Why am I not surprised?"

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Harry's starship is based on the Andromeda series of Starships. The Siege Perilous design philosophy is very simple: Missiles and Armor. Missiles, missles, and more missiles, with minimal crew, and only one airlock to minimize entry points. And armor. Lots of armor. An ideal ship design for destroying invaders and protecting memories, I'd say. I wouldn't really consider myself a huge fan of the TV show, although the technology and ship design in the series really caught my attention. And I know the show only came out in 2001, but Gene Roddenberry thought it up in the 70's or something, so let's pretend there were a few books before then that Harry read. =P

- Do you guys think I should include Neville and Luna into the time loops? I've still got time to incorporate them into the story. I'm not sure if they should also be given an equal share of "experience," either. There won't be any time travel during the actual Triwizard, though, I'll just say for now. I just want to flesh out a good Triwizard Tournament for the next several chapters.


	13. Fallout

**Author's Notes: **HP not mine, not making money, etc. etc.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Fallout**

The crowd murmured as all the officials at the head table looked at each other, unsure of what to do. The twins started laughing and gave him a hearty applause, but very few people followed suit. Most of the reporters were furiously scribbling notes down.

"You know what the odd thing about this is?" asked Hermione.

"What?"

"Why have we never tried getting you out of it?"

"What do you mean?" Harry didn't quite follow what Hermione was saying.

"I mean, I'm fairly certain the last three times you went through this, you participated each time," Hermione explained. "Why go through the trouble? Did we never figure out how to get you out of it, or was there actually some advantage to being in the Tournament?"

Harry never really gave it much thought, but she was right. Why didn't he send back information on how to stop himself from getting entered? Did he _have_ to enter? Was it already too late to stop it? Or maybe it just wasn't important enough to worry about? "I'm not sure, Hermione. Let's just go with it this time and see what I can get out of it."

"Mr. Potter, would you please enter the champion's room," came the announcement from the officials' table.

"That's a good idea, Harry. I know the tournament had a reputation for being dangerous, but it's supposed to be a lot safer this year, right? Maybe we can use it to our advantage, somehow." Neither Hermione or Harry heard the order.

"I'm not sure about the tournament itself, but I think the champions are allowed to skive off classes whenever they want, and skip the end of year exams..." Harry grinned.

"Harry! That's abusing your position!" Hermione scolded.

"Mr. Potter, please enter the champion's room now," Dumbledore repeated.

"Hey, I wasn't planning on just taking naps, you know. I'd work on the combat skills that Moody was teaching us, and maybe practice some spells in the Room of Requirement that aren't... part of the school curriculum," Harry answered defensively.

"Oh, fine, as long as you're not wasting it. But you'd better come to Runes and Arithmancy with me, because you'd never catch up otherwise."

"Of course, my love. I'd never be able to get through those classes without you," he said, letting their foreheads touch. They both giggled.

"Mr. Potter, please come with me." One of the officials had walked up to Harry and tapped him on the shoulder. Harry, finally remembering what was going on, grinned sheepishly. He gave Hermione a quick chaste kiss as he got up and walked over to the champion's room, ignoring all the cheers and jeers he was getting from everyone.

As Harry entered the small room, the three other champions looked at him, unsure of what to make of his presence. Harry was quickly followed by the three Headmasters as well as Ludo Bagman and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"What iz zis leettle boy doing 'ere? Are we not finished wiz ze sélection?" asked the Beaxubatons champion.

"That is precisely the issue, Miss Delacour. The Goblet of Fire seems to have chosen a fourth champion," answered Bagman.

"What? Am I not the Hogwarts champion any more? How did Harry get picked?" asked Cedric angrily.

Harry raised his hands as if surrendering. "Hey, don't ask me. Weird stuff tends to happen _to_ me, not _because_ of me. That's the twins' territory."

Karkaroff snarled at Harry. "This pathetic boy tricks the Goblet and then tries to pass the blame off on someone else. He's nothing but a cheat and a coward." His remark instantly set off several tempers, but Shacklebolt drew his wand and glared at everyone.

"Surely, this is a security matter. The Goblet of Fire was compromised, and I doubt that a fourth-year student would be able to unravel the charms on the Goblet to switch it to a four-school tournament," explained the Head Auror. "Is there any way to call this tournament off?"

"I'm afraid not," answered Bagman. "The champions are bound by magic to compete, or else they will forfeit their magic..."

"Zen ze tournament will not be fair. 'ogwarts cannot have two champions," interjected Madam Maxime.

Krum finally spoke up. "Vill not matter. Only one winner. Strongest vill win. He is veakest among us four." He gave a predatory smile to Harry, and spoke to him directly. "You may be strong in your year, but you are nothing against us. Maybe little girls are scared?" He eyed both Fleur and Cedric when he said that.

"I'd like to ask a question about my entry," stated Harry loudly. All eyes turned to him. "Headmaster, don't people also have to write their school along with their name when they place it in the Goblet of Fire?"

"Yes," answered Dumbledore. "I see what you're asking. And no, 'Hogwarts' was not written on the piece of parchment with your signature."

"Then that solves your concern, doesn't it, Madam Maxime? I'm not competing for Hogwarts. I'm independent," Harry concluded. Everyone in the room murmured to each other. There were a few arguments between the headmasters, but they seemed to settle their differences eventually. Cedric looked at Harry questioningly, while Fleur watched with distain, and Krum all but ignored him. Finally, the three headmasters turned to face the champions.

"We have reached an agreement that we feel is fair for all the champions," said Dumbledore, smiling. "We've agreed that Harry will compete as an independent contestant. However, since he is still attending Hogwarts classes, he will technically be receiving a Hogwarts education. Thus, we have agreed that, should any of the Champions choose to, they may attend any Hogwarts class as well. On top of that, all champions are now given complete access to the Hogwarts library, including the restricted section. Lastly, any unused classroom within the castle may be used for your personal training and study, so long as you confirm with either myself or deputy headmistress McGonagall before you use it."

All three contestants nodded. _Oh, Hermione is going to love this. Maybe I should've entered her into the Triwizard as an early Christmas present or something..._ thought Harry.

Ludo Bagman addressed the champions. "Well, I guess that all four of you will be champions, then. We'll have to inform the judges and change the scoring system a bit, but for the most part, none of the events will change. The locations, rules, format for each trial are already set. You are all expected to have only a limited amount of time to prepare for each trial. Don't attempt to cheat this information out, or else you will be disqualified from the event in question. If you try this multiple times, you'll automatically lose the tournament. Each of the events is spaced approximately one month apart. You'll find out about each one in due time."

"Lastly, all of you are to meet this Friday afternoon for the official wand weighing. The first trial will be the Trial of Air, taking place at Corrieshalloch Gorge in two weeks. You will only be given more details on the day of the trial- thinking on your feet is part of the tournament, after all. Now, all four of you, follow me."

They followed Bagman out the door and on to the stage at the front of the Great Hall. People began murmuring again once they saw Harry standing beside Cedric, Krum, and Fleur. Bagman began his speech, gesturing to the champions standing behind him. "Ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards, as you can see, there has been a change of plans. There are now four champions in the Triwizard Tournament! I present to you Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts, Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons, Viktor Krum of Durmstrang, and Harry Potter, as an independent! This means there will be slight changes to a few of our events, but never fear, the tournament will go on! The first event will take place two weeks from now at Corrieshalloch Gorge. Reserve your tickets today by sending your owls to the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Prices start as low as eight sickles. We have limited space, so order quickly!"

The reporters all frantically began asking questions, but none of the champions wanted to be part of the ruthless media frenzy in front of them. They followed Krum, who had experience with this sort of thing, off the stage and quickly left the Great Hall, ignoring reporters the entire way. As soon as Harry managed to break free from the crowd, he scrambled up to Gryffindor Tower, finally getting some peace and quiet. Three whole minutes of it, to be precise.

The Fat Lady opened again to a stream of rambunctious Gryffindors. Most of them were applauding his entry into the tournament. One of them stormed up to his room without a backwards glance. Another placed her arms around Harry as if protecting him from the crowd. "Hermione... you're just who I wanted to see," Harry whispered into her ear.

"What was that?" Hermione nearly shouted at Harry. She couldn't hear a word he said over the commotion everyone else was making.

"Never mind... I was just trying to be sweet and tender but that's just about impossible right now," Harry said dejectedly. He settled for just holding her for a minute, letting the warmth of her body and the scent of her hair wash over him and help him ignore everyone else. His housemates were relentless, however, and eventually he couldn't help but hear what they were saying.

"How did you do it? What was the secret to getting past the age line?"

"Are you scared? Oh, of course not. You're Harry frickin' Potter!"

"He's way better than Cedric. I mean, sure, Ced's got good grades, good looks, the pick of any girl he wants, and he's three years ahead of Harry, but he's got no chance over the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Harry, mate! When did you have a go at it? Wait... don't tell me..."

"...did you set us up? You let us take the fall that night and you got to spend all night figuring out the cup, didn't you?"

"Seriously, mate, that's some quality pranking right there."

"Agreed, my dear brother. We only thought of getting past the age line. Harry here somehow managed to fool the Goblet itself!"

The last few caught his attention, and he saw the twins looking at him. They were practically awestruck- he knew they were just begging to know how it had happened. "Sorry guys, it wasn't actually me that did it."

"Well, alright then, who put your name in for you?"

"And how did he actually get your name in the cup? We convinced George Bolstein to drop our names into the cup but the parchments just flew back out."

"That's not what I meant... I didn't ask for anyone to put my name in the cup. Someone wanted me in the tournament," Harry explained.

"Harry, you shouldn't explain it to anyone," warned Hermione. "Otherwise we'll end up having to tell the whole story of Sirius, Pettigrew, the Marauder's Map, and everything else... just ignore it, pretend it was a good prank or something."

Harry nodded to her, and decided to respond with the prankster's motto: "Trade secret." They spent a good portion of the evening together while everyone else was hounding them for answers.

* * *

"Master Auror Moody, I'd like some of your insight," Shacklebolt said to Moody. They were discussing the strange turn of events of the evening along with several other aurors and tournament security officials.

"I told you I shouldn't even be here," Moody growled. "I _was_ head of security until I was compromised. You shouldn't be using any of my plans. And I'm retired, Kingsley."

"Can't take the fight out of an old bear like you, sir. If losing a leg didn't stop you, you think retirement would?" Kingsley laughed. "Besides, I've drawn up my own security protocols. I'm just here to ask for some advice."

"Then you'd like my ideas as to why Potter's in the tournament? And don't call me sir. I'm retired."

"Couldn't hurt." Shacklebolt grinned.

"Someone either really likes him or really hates him. I'm leaning towards the latter."

"I don't see being in the tournament unwillingly as a benefit, either. But why do something as crude as entering him in the tournament?" Shacklebolt wondered.

"The tournament's dangerous for a seventh-year student. It could be downright deadly for a fourth-year," suggested one of the other aurors.

"No, if someone wanted Potter dead, they probably could have killed him in his sleep. As far as we know, this person incapacitated Moody, snuck into Hogwarts, and could unravel the charms on an ancient artefact."

"Publicity, then? Maybe the Tournament wasn't famous enough without featuring the Boy-Who-Lived," joked another.

"Please, serious answers-" began Kingsley.

"No, he's got a point," said Moody. "Publicity. The press will have a field day. I'm sure by tomorrow there'll be a million others trying to beat down the gates of Hogwarts to get some exclusive interview. Kingsley, we need to be even more restrictive now. Press is only allowed in on the days of the events. Public will have no access unless they're family or legal guardian of a student here. It's going to be chaos if we don't do this."

Kingsley nodded. "I'll take that into account. I'm worried about the guests, to be honest. The ministers of three countries or their ambassadors will be visiting the tournament regularly. They'll need extra protection."

"Scan everyone for Imperius as well," Moody said.

"Wait! That would slow down admittance considerably! We're hoping to see at least ten thousand people per event. The inconvenience would..." protested one of the tournament officials.

Moody slammed his fist on the table. "And how _inconvenient_ would it be for the Minister of Magic to die, can you tell me that? They were good enough to put me under an imperius, it means they'll have no qualms, nor difficulty at performing the spell on the spectators."

"Have we got any suspects?"

"Other than the fact that it's probably the same person who put me under Imperius? None. The most dangerous criminal out there right now is Sirius Black, and he doesn't seem to be the patient type."

"Twelve years in Azkaban can change a person. We don't even know if he has a motive, or if he's just insane. Getting into Hogwarts seemed to be just fine for him, he managed to sneak past Dementors last year. But for imperiusing Moody and re-charming the Goblet, he had to have an accomplice, even if it was him."

"We can use that to narrow the search. The suspect is probably a Master Enchanter if he could alter the cup. It's not like you could fool such a thing with a Confounding charm," Moody told them. "But if they're into criminal activity, I doubt they would be registered as a professional enchanter. You might have to dig pretty deep for this one, Shacklebolt."

"Thanks for your advice, sir." Shacklebolt turned to his team. "Let's begin with the basics. Reporters off the grounds, immediately. No more admittance until the Wand Weighing. Verne, Rutgers, you two start looking at the lists of master enchanters, then the lists of anyone who's taken an apprenticeship in enchantment but hasn't taken the mastery examination. The rest of you, we'll be working on reworking the event security to account for an extra champion and probably more visitors, as well."

* * *

Thankfully, by the next morning all the reporters had been escorted off the grounds. Harry and Hermione walked down to breakfast, still concentrating on ignoring the praise from the Gryffindors and the glares from the Hufflepuffs. However, it was one angry glare from a fellow Gryffindor that caught Harry's attention.

"Uh, hey Ron. Is something bothering you?" Harry ventured cautiously.

"You just had to enter the tournament, didn't you?" spat Ron venomously. Unfortunately, his words weren't the only thing he spat at Harry as bits of hash browns and sausage came flying out as well.

"Ron, I already told everyone last night... I didn't enter it. Someone else put my name in," said Harry, trying to remain as calm as he could as he flicked bits of food off his robes.

"You won't even own up to it? You know how much I wanted in on those thousand Galleons," Ron had actually stopped eating with a full plate of bacon in front of him, which was a bad sign.

"What? Ron, it's not like you get that money just from entering..."

"Yeah, the money doesn't even matter to you, does it? You're already rich and famous, but you don't even think about handing some my way!"

"WHAT?" exclaimed Harry. The last comment left him completely flabbergasted.

"Yeah, you don't even want to be seen with me, do you? You'd rather turn down box seats to the World Cup than be seen hanging out with a Weasley, huh?"

"That's... that's ridiculous! I was with..."

"Yeah, Hermione, we all know that by now. I should have guessed when you'd rather sit there doing nothing than play some chess, but..."

"We were practicing Occlumency! We explained it to you, but you didn't want to try it!" shouted Harry.

"And after Moody decided to take you guys on you don't even bother to hang around any more. Shows how much you care if you'd make some excuse to talk to Loony than help me with my homework..." Ron was venting without regard for what Harry was trying to say to him. Harry, still trying to placate his friend, was interrupted by Hermione.

"_Silencio!_" The silencing spell instantly shut Ron up, and Hermione stared daggers into his eyes. "Now you listen here, you stupid little git, _you_ were the one who decided not to practice Occlumency with us and _you_ were the one who decided not to train with Moody. _You_ abandoned _us_, and now you're complaining that I'm not writing your essays for you like I used to? You have no idea what friendship is, do you, you jealous prat? Harry would have gladly spotted you some money if you asked nicely, he would have helped you try to get your name into the cup like he helped the twins if he knew how, and he'd still be your friend if you trusted him at all. But you didn't, and both Neville and Luna are being far better friends than you are." Without bothering to remove the silencing spell from Ron, she grabbed Harry by the arm, and said, "Come on, Harry. I don't think I can stop with one spell if he's in my face any longer."

The rest of the day wasn't much better- unfortunately for them, they had potions and transfiguration, and in both classes they were seated right beside Ron. Harry spent most of it trying to make amends with Ron, but Hermione pulled him back each time. At the end of the day, they asked for a completely private room from the Room of Requirement.

"We can't spend our lives fixing his mistakes for him, Harry," she said with a determined look. "Let him figure it out himself for once."

"Hermione... maybe he can have a second chance..." Harry hated seeing her so distressed and angry.

"I am giving him a second chance, Harry. If he comes and apologizes himself, then I'd be willing to forgive him. If he doesn't, though, I'm not holding his hand and guiding him. I'm not going to... I mean, I can't... um... I need to confess something," said Hermione, looking down at her shoes.

"You haven't done anything wrong, have you?"

"I just need you to listen to my perspective."

"On what? Ron? Um... alright." They both sat down, while Harry watched Hermione expectantly.

"You remember how we first became friends?" Hermione asked quietly.

"How could I forget? We fought off the troll when you were in the bathroom..." Harry grinned.

"But you remember why I was there in the first place?"

"Err... you were crying... because Ron insulted you..."

"I've always had my doubts about him, Harry. He's a lot nicer when you're around, but do you have any idea what he says behind your back?"

"Behind my back? He would never..."

"He used to brag about being friends with you, the one and only _Harry Potter_. He's held on to you because he wants to be rich and famous, too. I guess after three years of our 'adventures' he's starting to realize that being your friend isn't a free ticket to fame and fortune."

"He does that? I just don't see him using me like..." Harry had never seen this side of Ron... well, not until recently at least.

"He's used me, Harry. You have no idea what it's like. Do you know what it's like to have him practically demand that I help him with his homework, no matter how busy I am? He acted like it was his _right_ to have me fix up his horrid essays, and then he has the audacity to complain when I tell him to get his work done before the last minute."

Harry stayed silent. He knew that Ron went to Hermione for homework help far more often than he did, and Ron was certainly a procrastinator. He had never known how hard it was on Hermione. He was confused by what Hermione was explaining to him. He didn't want to lose Ron because the little redhead on the train was the first friend he'd made, but he was starting to realize that perhaps he was just clinging on to Ron out of some kind of sentimental value.

"Why would he blow up now?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "He's certainly gained a lot of fame from what we've done together..."

"Harry, he's never really been known outside these walls as anything more than Harry Potter's friend. Nobody knew about the philosopher's stone in first year except us and a few staff members sworn to secrecy. In second year everyone knew you had saved Ginny's life, not Ron. And in third year, he got a little glory when everyone thought Sirius attacked him, but that's it. And at the end of the year you how he was telling the story to everyone who was in earshot, but that just made him better-known among the students at best."

"But how's this any different? We both know that odd things just keep happening to me all the time."

"Because this time you'll be famous outside of Hogwarts! You'll be making the papers! And not just the Daily Prophet, either, Harry. There's reporters from around Europe to cover this event. You were famous as the Boy-Who-Lived in Britain, but for the rest of the world you were little more than a storybook character. Now you'll be an actual international celebrity. Ron hasn't got a chance of sharing that glory with you."

Harry sighed. "I've told him that I never wanted this fame..."

"But he does," Hermione said. "I guess he figures that you should just hand it over to him, somehow, but you haven't. But you don't remember the details of the past three loops we did with the original beacon, do you?"

"What? No, those memories are practically gone. I can't remember anything except what we specifically sent back to ourselves with occlumency. Do you remember something about Ron?"

"No, it's just a feeling... but I'm pretty sure that he did this every time. And I don't think he ever tried apologizing, either. This is probably his fourth chance and we just don't remember it."

For the remainder of the week, Ron remained distant, spending his time with other people. He especially seemed to be trying to make friends with the Hufflepuffs, who were rightfully angry that Harry was stealing some of Cedric's thunder. Hermione made sure that Harry didn't cave and try to make up with Ron, as she made it abundantly clear that Ron was the one who was wrong, so he would have to be the one to make it up to them. Unfortunately, he didn't make any indication all week that he was even thinking about it.

* * *

On the Friday of the wand weighing, Harry was with Hermione in their Runes class when a tournament official knocked on the door. Although she didn't make a habit of reading tabloids, she _did_ know exactly what kinds of 'reporters' worked for them and found a few sample articles for Harry. Thankfully, Harry was already somewhat familiar with the concept of paparazzi, having cleaned and sorted his aunt Petunia's stacks of _The Daily Mail_ every week in his childhood. He never really understood the reason why people wanted to know exactly what some famous person was wearing while suntanning on a beach halfway around the world. Hermione had to remind him that this time, he was that famous person.

Right before he left, Hermione kept giving him last-minute tips. "Don't bother answering any question you're not comfortable with. In fact, just say 'no comment' to all their questions if you feel like it. Just stand and smile, don't try anything dramatic. Most of all, stay calm and keep your temper in check! Every one of them is probably trying to get a rise out of you so they'll have something scandalous to write about."

Hermione's advice turned out to be invaluable, as when Harry entered the Great Hall he was assaulted by a swarm of camera flashes and a barrage of voices, every one of them trying to shout over the others. Harry ignored them all, and his escort helped plough the way through to where the other champions were already waiting. Fleur and Cedric were chatting, while Krum sat stoically, much like the way he appeared in many of his Quidditch posters. Ludo Bagman had once again taken center stage, and off to the side were several mediwitches, as well as Ollivander.

"Everyone, please settle down. The Weighing of the Wands is about to begin. Please keep quiet until after the champions have been inspected and save your questions for afterwards." After reporters finally settled down, Bagman introduced Mr. Ollivander. "Britain's most famous wand-maker and wand expert, Mr. Ollivander, will be conducting the Weighing of the Wands today. Ladies first, of course. Miss Delacour, would you please step forward?"

Fleur walked up to the old, eccentric wandmaker and curtseyed to him. She handed him her wand, and he twirled it around in his fingers, then regarded it carefully. "Nine and a half inches, rosewood. Inflexible. Let's see here... Veela hair?" His eyes widened and he looked to Fleur.

"Yes, ze core of zis wand comes from ze 'ead of my own grandmuzzer," Fleur stated proudly. "Eet was custom-made for me."

"Hm..." Ollivander gripped the wand and conjured a small stone block. He then levitated the block up and down, although it didn't seem to go the same height or speed each time. He transfigured it into a block of wood, then set it on fire. The flames very nearly caught the old wandmaker off guard, as they erupted from the tip of the wand and completely engulfed the wood right away. He extinguished the flames by conjuring water, cast a reductor to blow it to spliters, then vanished everything. "Rather temperamental, Veela hair. I never use it myself." Seeing Fleur's disapproval of his assessment, he handed the wand back to her. "I'm certain it is highly attuned for you, especially if your grandmother gave that hair with you in mind. Could you perform the same set of spells, please?"

Fleur took her wand back, and expertly conjured the stone, levitating it with complete control. The transfiguration was much faster, and the flames far more controlled. She completed the round of spells twice as quickly as Ollivander did.

"Yes, that wand is certainly in perfect working order and is definitely very well matched for you, Miss Delacour. I declare this wand fit for competition." Fleur stepped back in line as Ollivander moved in front of Cedric. Two mediwitches walked up to Fleur and escorted her to the same side room they went to during the selection ceremony. Harry started to feel nervous, as the set of spells definitely involved two conjurations (albeit simple ones), transfiguration, and several charms. If he had to demonstrate it himself, he thought he might end up embarrassing himself. The other students were definitely confident in their abilities, having learned those spells in school already.

"Ah, one of my own. Twelve and a quarter inches, Ash. A pleasant springiness to it, if I may say so myself. Unicorn hair. Got it off one of the feistiest unicorns I've ever encountered. I see you've taken care of it."

Cedric grinned. "Polished it last night, sir." Harry quickly glanced down at his own wand. From sticking it into a troll's nose to dropping it in a pool of basilisk saliva, his wand looked far older than the three years he'd owned it. In fact, it seemed especially battle-worn given his last several weekends running around the Forbidden Forest being chased by, or chasing, Moody.

Ollivander performed the same set of spells as he did with Fleur, and then handed the wand to Cedric, who once again performed them slightly better than the wand-maker. "I know my wands, Mr. Diggory. They certainly like me, but this one definitely likes you. I declare this wand fit for competition."

Cedric was led away from the group by the two medi-witches to the same room, who had returned with Fleur during Cedric's inspection. Ollivander moved on to Viktor.

"Ah yes, a Gregorovitch. His style is certainly not to my taste, but I can't doubt his skill. Ten and a quarter inches, Hornbeam. Dragon heartstring core. Absolutely rigid, and slightly thicker than most wands I've seen. Very aggressive indeed." Ollivander then performed the same set of test spells. The flame seemed especially powerful, although not as strong as with Fleur's wand, and the reductor curse blasted the wooden block to sawdust instead of splinters. He handed the wand back to Viktor, who performed the same spells and certainly didn't bother turning down the power.

"A most powerful wand, very suited to charms and curses. You've got quite a bit of power there, Mr. Krum. I declare this wand fit for competition." Krum took his wand back and was led to the side room as Cedric emerged.

Harry finally noticed how all the journalists and photographers had their eyes on him when Ollivander stepped in front of him, asking for his wand. He handed his over.

"Yes, yes, yes... I remember this one. Spent nearly seven decades in my shop before it finally found its master. Eleven inches, Holly. Nice and supple. Phoenix feather core," he said. Once again, he performed the set of spells as easily as he did with Cedric's wand before handing it back to Harry. Harry hesitated for a moment. He realized he was being very nervous, and he would have to perform several spells above his year level in front of a large crowd. Sure, he'd performed the Patronus charm last year, which was pretty special, but he got a lot of training for that. This time it was sixth- and seventh-year spells he'd need to perform flawlessly or else the press would have a field day. He was nearly hyperventilating when he remembered Hermione's advice.

_Stay calm_, he thought to himself. _Good advice, Hermione_. When he thought of her, he suddenly remembered when they activated the very first beacon. He had performed complex conjuration without even thinking. He _had_ learned all this before. In fact, he'd probably done this particular set of spells, in front of this crowd, several times before. Hopefully he could rely on his instincts for this. Taking a deep breath, he tried not to think too hard and conjured a brick, levitated it several times, turned it to wood, set it on fire, doused it with water, blew it up, then vanished the mess. His arm was practically moving by itself the whole time, without pausing. It seemed that he had performed all the spells expertly, and faster than everyone else as well.

Ollivander was smiling gleefully while Fleur and Cedric looked at him in surprise. "That wand is serving you very well, Mr. Potter, although I would ask that you take better care of it. I declare this wand fit for competition." Harry was led by the two mediwitches to the side room as Viktor rejoined the other school champions.

"Please lie down on the cot, Mr. Potter. We're just here to perform a quick medical and magical checkup." He lay down on his back, realizing what this could mean. _They had better not ask me to take my shirt off or look at my back..._ he worried.

Seeing his distress, one of the witches smiled sweetly and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Potter, everything we find here will be held in the strictest privacy. We just need to know you're in good health before you compete."

They cast several diagnostic charms over his body. They paused at his legs. "Hm... I'm several old breaks, never quite healed properly... here, take this potion." They handed Harry a potion he'd never seen before. He drank it, and suddenly he was glowing all over his body. Both mediwitches stopped and stared, dropping their parchment and quills.

"Is this right? This can't possibly be..." one of them whispered.

"I... I can't believe it. You did give him the correct dosage, right?"

"Of course I did! Male, 159 centimeters, 51 kilograms." She glared at her co-worker.

Harry was somewhat confused. "What's going on?"

"Harry, this potion reveals old wounds that may not have healed properly. It seems to be showing that... well, nearly every bone in your body has had at least some hairline fracture or something that went untreated."

Harry was extremely reluctant to admit it, but with the glow coming off his body, he had to admit it. "I was treated pretty badly at home when I was little... please don't tell anyone."

"Mr. Potter... it seems you have recovered from these, but I do recommend undergoing a regimen of regrowth potions at a better time, which should reverse the trauma and bring you to your natural height and weight. Your growth has definitely been stunted. Unfortunately, with the tournament in the way, I don't think you'll have time for it..."

They also found that his glasses were horribly matched for his eyes, and stunned to realize that they didn't even offer any special enchantments. Harry was perplexed, but when he asked, they told him that wizards cure eyesight problems easily with a potion. Nearly every wizard who wears glasses does so because they were enchanted to give them better vision some how, be it night-vision, telescopic vision, or something else. Unfortunately, they weren't expecting any champion to have such a severe problem, and they didn't have the potion with them. Thankfully, the examination ended without having to take his shirt off, and neither witch saw the runes on his back. They reluctantly checked off his medical form, saying that although he'd suffered a lot of abuses in the past, he wasn't _unhealthy_ at the given moment and would be given clearance to compete in the Tournament. Harry made a mental note to ask Hermione about the eyesight potion and regimen of regrowth potions.

Harry stepped back out, and it was evident his exam had taken quite a bit longer than the other three. Standing beside the other champions, he decided to follow Krum's example and gave little more than a proud, but tight-lipped smile for the cameras. Fleur was obviously playing up her beauty and posing for the cameras, and Cedric was taking her lead and giving friendly smiles. He ignored the journalists, declining to answer their questions, especially any that even remotely pertained to his entry in the Goblet. Classes were long over by the time the whole ceremony was over, and everyone was ushered out in time for the hall to be cleaned up and dinner served. All four champions were escorted to the small side room again, this time with Bagman.

"I'll be letting you all know the rules of the tournament now. Throughout the entire tournament, there will be no Unforgivables curses. That one should be obvious. Any curse that is meant to cause harm by interfering with medical treatments is forbidden. If a spell is cast with intent to maim, permanently injure, or kill, you will instantly forfeit your place in the tournament. Is that clear?" They all nodded, although Krum was glowering as he did. "If you have any questions whether or not a spell is permissible, please talk to me before the event." He said that to everyone, but he was looking straight at Krum when he did.

"In the seven trials, you'll be scored based on your performance, skill, and character. The majority of the score will always be based on what place you finish, so I suggest practicality over showiness. Your total score for the seven trials will determine how much of an advantage you get for the final task. Now, I'll explain the first trial, the Trial of Air. You'll have two weeks to prepare, and the event will take place on Saturday, the 19th. As you know, the event takes place in Corrieshalloch Gorge. You'll be flooing to Ullapool at nine in the morning with your professors and then flying to the competition site. The event itself will begin at noon. If you're late, you forfeit the match. Got that?" All four champions nodded.

"Next, I'll explain the rules for this specific trial. First, you must bring your own broom. No other flying device is allowed. You may carry your wands with you, but you may not cast a spell at your opponents or at their brooms. Attempting to knock your opponents off their brooms is forbidden. Touching the ground at the bottom of the gorge will result in a disqualification. Flying into the muggle-visible portion or flying above the top of the gorge will also result in disqualification. That's all. You'll be briefed on the actual trial on the day you arrive."

All four of them left, returning to their separate dorms to figure out exactly what was in store for them and the best way to prepare. Harry knew he'd need Hermione's help with this one... and probably the entire year, for that matter.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Well, here's the tipping point for Ron. Did it seem too abrupt or OOC? It felt a little forced as I was writing it.

**- **so there you have it, a completely different first task to start with. I do still feel like throwing a dragon in there as one of the tasks (and most of you can probably guess it'll be the Trial of Fire), but it seems a little dramatic to start with something that hard.

- No, harry will not receive a miraculous boost in powers if he does take the regrowth potions. And he won't be taking them... this cycle, at least.

- chapter revised slightly, just added a short scene.


	14. Aerial Preparations

**Author's Notes: **HP belongs to JKR

* * *

**Chapter 14: Aerial Preparations**

"You know, I have to wonder why I'm stuck in this tournament in the first place." Harry had brought Hermione to the library following Moody's training session on Saturday. Technically, Hermione had dragged Harry there at a full sprint when Harry told her he had unrestricted access to the Restricted section, despite being 'dead tired' at the end of practice. Harry also, technically, didn't count this as a date, but Hermione was certainly having a good time. He was flipping through Broken Broomsticks: Good Reasons to Stay Grounded, which listed many common aerial mishaps with brooms, which Harry had never seen, since he rarely flew outside the Quidditch pitch. Hermione was flipping through Brewes For Thine Bod, one of the restricted books on potions that permanently modify a person's body. She was specifically looking up the eyesight potion and the regrowth potion that Harry told her about.

"What do you mean? The Goblet's a binding magical contract. Whoever messed with it to get your name in didn't muddle that part up, at least," she answered without looking up from the book. "Oh, neat! This one should permanently boost your power... oh, wait, never mind. Eew."

"No, not that, I mean why would anyone even bother sticking my name in? And what do you mean, eew?" Harry really needed to learn how Hermione could hold two conversations at the same time so easily.

"Oh, it's just that you needed to drink someone's blood and throw in some dead guy's skull. I don't think you'd want that one. Anyways, Moody guessed the whole thing was an assassination attempt, right?"

"Oh, that IS gross! I can see why that book's restricted. And I'd agree with Moody, but I don't see what me being in a tournament is going to do to help an assassin. I'm not going to kill anyone."

"But don't you see what it's done to the security of the event? As soon as your name was announced, the number of journalists and photographers trying to get into the event practically tripled! The tickets to the Trial of Air were sold out overnight, and people are demanding more seating already... and Bagman wants to let them in, because it'll make them more money! It's become a nightmare for Auror Shacklebolt."

"So you're saying that I'm just a distraction so they'll have an easier time sneaking in as part of the crowd?"

"Yeah, that's my best guess. It's the only thing I can think of that makes sense, though. Oh, I found the vision-correction potion. It takes about a week to brew, though. The customized recipe that uses some of your tears and eyelashes will guarantee perfect vision, compared to the more generic version."

"Do you need me to owl-order any ingredients? I'd rather not have to tell Snape that I need to borrow any rare ingredients." Harry closed his book, and grabbed the next one on the pile. Aerial Attackers: Creatures from the Clouds, a book of the deadliest flying beasts. He was almost certain some of the "obstacles" in the course would be living ones.

"There are a few expensive ones for the custom version... Are you sure you can afford-" Hermione cut herself off when she saw Harry's disapproving look. "Oh... right... silly me. I doubt it would cost more than thirty galleons... but do you trust me to brew this potion for you, Harry?"

"Hermione, I'd trust you with my life. In fact, I think I've already done that more than once." Harry leaned over and whispered, "You've never failed me, my love. Don't you dare to ever doubt yourself."

Glancing around to make sure Madam Pince wasn't anywhere in sight, she said, "Harry, you're as sweet as ever." She gave him a long, sensual kiss for that.

"The library is _not_ the place for you young couples to fool around, champion or no champion!" They flew apart as the librarian caught them. Satisfied that she had successfully killed the emotion in their impromptu make-out session, Madame Pince left. _How does that woman do that?_ thought Hermione angrily. _She interrupted a perfectly good time I was having with Harry. I can't believe she'd... oh wow, I can't believe that I actually dislike a librarian._

"Well, I guess it's time we get out of here," said Harry. "We can read these books more comfortably in the common room anyways."

* * *

The Sunday edition of _Daly Prophet_ flew in at breakfast, bearing all the photos and articles from the Wand Weighing. Unsurprisingly, Fleur's provocative posing and extremely photogenic figure meant she was splashed all across page three. The wand weighing was summarized on the front page, and each Champion got a short article with a quick biography. Harry's article, however, caught Hermione's eye.

**Harry Potter: Star Attention Seeker?**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_With the Weighing of the Wands ceremony on Friday, the champions were officially sworn into the Triwizard Tournament. Still, many of us are left wondering why there are four contestants instead of three. Harry Potter was chosen as an additional champion after champions for the three schools had already been selected._

"_Yeah, I saw him when his name came out of the Goblet. He didn't even look surprised. He knew it was going to happen," said Ernie Macmillan, one of Mr. Potter's classmates in Hufflepuff._

_It was well known among school gossip that Harry Potter, along with two others, made an attempted to place their names in the cup. Our not-so-noble Harry, it seems, abandoned his fellow rascals when the going got tough. The two of them were caught at the cup while Harry slipped away. Surprisingly, very little investigation has been performed or punishment exacted on the young Gryffindor. Harry Potter, it seems, has a penchant for breaking school rules._

"_That boy is as arrogant as his father. He has no respect for the rules or the staff members. He gets away with whatever he wants thanks to his fame. He regularly gets into fights with students in my house and it is always up to me to see that he receives punishment, as others are often unwilling to be strict with our local celebrity," the Potions professor, Severus Snape, explained._

_But getting himself into the tournament isn't even half the story, folks. You would think that some people would be glad to see two Hogwarts champions, unfair as though it may seem. However, Harry Potter decided to declare himself an independent- which means that, should he win, his own school would not get the recognition for his achievement. He would keep everything to himself._

"_Yeah, he's already famous, but that's not enough. I mean, he got a lot of attention at school for being the best seeker ever, and the youngest one too, but Quidditch was cancelled this year, you know? I guess he figured if he wasn't able to show off this year so he entered himself in the tourney," explained Harry's close confidant, Ronald Weasley..._

A civil war practically erupted at the Gryffindor table when they saw the article. Some wanted to berate Harry for "betraying" Hogwarts. Some wanted to smack Ron for betraying a fellow housemate. Hermione was undoubtedly in the latter group as Harry restrained her. Harry definitely couldn't forgive Ron now, but seeing the twins' extremely disapproving looks they were giving their brother, he knew Ron would get what was coming to him. He quickly pulled Hermione from the table, muttering, "Come on, Hermione, I don't think we'll be able to have a decent breakfast for a while. Let's go for a fly."

Being back in the air was the only thing that could get Harry and Hermione away from the ruckus. Nearly everyone who read the article was now against Harry, save a few close friends who actually knew him. As they both needed to relieve themselves of their anger, they flew on separate brooms. Harry let his temper go by performing many hard dives and flying around at full speed, while Hermione preferred to fly lazily, watching Harry, to calm herself. Eventually, they both settled down enough to fly side-by-side and talk to each other.

"It's amazing how much that woman can write about you without ever having met you," Hermione observed.

"She also seems to have a knack for finding all the wrong people. Although I bet she knew exactly who to ask to get the worst opinions of me."

"Given how she managed to find Snape and Ron, I'm surprised she didn't quote Malfoy in that article today."

"Ugh, don't make it worse. Ron himself is bad enough. At least now we know why we didn't bring him back with us."

They flew silently for a while, simply following the winds and drafts as they flew around the castle's towers. Ever since they discovered their animagus forms, they were already beginning to feel the benefits before they mastered the transformation itself. Spending more time in the air was almost a natural feeling for both of them now. Although Harry had always enjoyed it, now he felt much more control and dominance when he was in the air now. Hermione, however, didn't have the same bird-of-prey instincts that Harry did, but she had gotten much more comfortable with flying very quickly. She still didn't enjoy flying alone, though Hedwig was becoming a regular flying partner for both of them. While watching her fly, they both began to notice many of the fine details of her flight, like the little adjustments she'd make to her wingtips or how she recovered from sudden gusts of wind.

After rounding the southern tower of Hogwarts for the seventh or eighth time, Hermione noticed they were being followed. Ducking behind the tower, they quickly flipped around and rose high into the air. Around the bend came... the Weasley twins, looking around to see where they had gone. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and Harry winked at her with a mischievous smile. He pulled off one of his signature dives, right in between the twins, nearly throwing them off their brooms in surprise. Hermione giggled at the sight.

"Blimey, Harry. We try to sneak up on you..."

"And you nearly take our heads off instead!"

"Perhaps we shouldn't have come to offer our services."

"He does seem rather ungrateful. Perhaps we shouldn't warn him what awaits inside, either."

"What? What's going on inside?" Harry asked as he flew upwards, level with the twins.

"Does it have something to do with Ron?" asked Hermione with a load of contempt.

"Interestingly enough..."

"It doesn't. Ron's tantrum with you is only outmatched by his hatred of the prince ponce of Slytherin."

"What? What's Draco planning?" Harry knew that Draco was rarely ever a real threat himself, but he did have a tendency to walk around with a little posse.

"Oh, nothing that bad, just a few badges that declare Cedric to be the real champion of Hogwarts." Fred answered nonchalantly.

"What? He _is_ the Hogwarts champion. I'm an independent," Harry said, somewhat confused.

"Yeah, but the little ponce probably thinks it'll provoke you. We wanted to see what you'd do in response," said George.

"Oh, I think I'll come up with something," said Hermione.

"You'll have plenty of time for that while we deal with Harry here..." said both of the twins simultaneously as they grinned and looked at Harry.

"Uh... what's this for? I haven't done anything to you two..." Harry said nervously, ready to bolt at any second.

"While technically true, there is the fact that about a month ago you helped us with the Goblet..."

"And we haven't repaid you for it."

"Oh, thanks guys... you don't have to..." said Harry.

"And technically, there is also the fact that about a month ago, you left us at the Goblet without sufficient warning..."

"And we haven't repaid you for it."

"Uh... you... don't have to?" Harry knew the twins had something up their sleeves.

"So, we realized we had a way to both thank you and punish you at the same time."

"We're offering our services as the Gryffindor Quidditch Beaters to help train you for the Triwizard."

"Surely, you need to learn how to dodge better on the broom, since the task won't be about seeking a snitch."

"So, we'll be smacking a pair of bludgers at you for the next hour or so while you practice dodging." Both of them suddenly brandished their beater bats. Harry wasn't sure from where they'd pulled them out.

"Um... guys... I really think... uh..." Harry whipped around and bolted away. With two quick _Accio_'s from the twins, a pair of training bludgers came flying from the ground and quickly intercepted Harry. Hermione was about to object but realized that Harry was soon having fun as the twins kept knocking both the bludgers towards him while he pushed his Firebolt to its limits while dodged, dipped, dove, ducked, and dodged some more. Half an hour later, all three of their movements were getting more sluggish as they tired themselves out. Fred and George halted the bludgers and dropped back down to the ground.

"Thanks, guys. That was fun. Maybe we should do it some more... it's actually pretty good training," said Harry.

"Next time we'll bring Lee with us, because it seems like you can handle two pretty easily." The twins waved goodbye to Harry as they carried the bludgers back to the Quidditch shed. Hermione joined him as they walked back towards the castle.

They found a group of Slytherins waiting for them at the entrance, with Malfoy leading the pack. Each one of them was wearing a badge with glowing letters.

_Support Cedric Diggory, The Real Hogwarts Champion _

Malfoy smirked, walking up to Harry. "How do you like them, Potter? And look at this!" He tapped the badge, changing the message.

_POTTER'S A GLORY HOUND_

The group of Slytherins laughed. At the back, they were handing the badges out to everyone passing by. "Would you like one, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, as he dangled another badge in Harry's face.

Hermione silently thanked the twins for the warning, as this was almost exactly what she expected. Typical Malfoy behaviour. Barely suppressing her smile, she nudged Harry. Right on cue, Harry grabbed the badge out of Malfoy's hand, saying, "Thanks, Malfoy. I never thought I'd see the day when Slytherins would willingly take a back seat to a Hufflepuff."

He passed the badge on to Hermione, who began inspecting the spellwork on it immediately. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins suddenly quieted down, shocked by Harry's admission. "Shut up, Potter. Give that back." He made a grab at the badge that Hermione was holding.

Harry quickly stepped in between them, bringing himself face to face with his schoolyard rival. "You just offered it to me, Malfoy, and I took you up on your offer. You suddenly want it back? It's good to know that the Malfoy name is as worthless as ever, but I think I like these. I'll have another one, in fact." He quickly summoned another badge out of the hands of one of the Slytherins who were passing them out.

"Don't you talk about my family, Potter! Your line is sullied with muggles and half-bloods, while mine's completely pure! Your name is worthless compared to mine!" He made a grab at the badge that Harry was holding, but Harry quickly sidestepped. Dodging Draco was nothing compared to dodging bludgers... or Moody.

"Good enough for the Goblet of Fire, at least. Weren't you the one who was telling everyone you'd be putting your name in?" Harry was probably having a bit more fun taunting Draco than he should have, but it was mostly to buy some time for Hermione.

"Got it!" interrupted Hermione. "Only eleven words, Malfoy? Don't you know how to count any higher? You could have placed more words into the enchantment, you know. And the binding's pretty weak, I can rewrite this pretty easily."

"Shut up, Granger. What does a mudblood like you know?" Harry was tempted to blast him into the nearest broom closet again, but he wanted to see Hermione put Draco in his place, and Draco needed to be conscious for that.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "A lot more than you, obviously. _Proponoto Proprio_." The spell immediately changed the message on the badge Malfoy was wearing.

_Support Cedric Diggory, The Hogwarts Champion!_

It then flashed to the other message,

_I went to the Triwizard Tournament and all I got was this stupid badge._

Harry laughed at the muggle joke. Hermione cast the spell on their badges, which Harry pinned to his robes immediately. Hermione did the same, and immediately began casting the spell on all the other Slytherins' badges, finishing with the box of badges behind them. All of them looked down, and immediately began fiddling with their badges. Malfoy kept trying spell after spell without effect. "Change it back, Granger!"

"Oh, a silly little mudblood like me wouldn't know anything about how to modify these badges, Malfoy. Maybe you should try some of that all-powerful pureblood magic of yours?" She laughed as she and Harry left the Slytherins, who were still trying to undo the spell that Hermione had cast. As they walked through the castle to the library, they cast the spell again on anyone they saw wearing the badge. They settled themselves down in the restricted section again and continued searching for useful information for the upcoming trial.

* * *

Harry owl-ordered the ingredients for the eyesight restoration potion first thing Monday morning. They had about a week and a half to go before the trial, and the potion would take a week to brew. As they walked down to breakfast, they continued to modify every one of Malfoy's badges they came across. Malfoy's face was livid. Apparently, they hadn't even made the badges themselves- Malfoy had spent a good chunk of his allowance money to buy them, custom-ordered from a party shop. Of course, each badge wasn't very valuable, but he had ordered nearly a thousand in the hopes of getting nearly everyone in the school to wear them. Luckily, Hermione had hit the bulk of them the day before while they were still sitting in boxes before they were handed out to people, and now Malfoy was left with a large batch of badges that he didn't know how to change.

"I'm touched Malfoy deemed me so special he spent his own allowance just to try to annoy me," Harry smirked.

"It does seem like he considers taking you down a notch to be his life's ambition, doesn't it? He seems rather... unhealthily obsessed with you." Hermione had an inquisitive look on her face.

"Yeah, and all this because I didn't want to be his friend..." Harry chuckled.

"What? He wanted to be your friend? You never told me that!"

Harry laughed. "Oh, it was on the train in first year. I'd just met Ron, and Malfoy walks in saying he wants to be my friend and I shouldn't associate with Ron. I turned him down. I don't remember ever doing anything else to him, but from then on he practically declared a blood feud against me."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" laughed Hermione. "We are _so_ going to use that against him sometime! Poor little Draco, he couldn't command someone to be his friend, so they must be his enemy. I can't imagine living with such a simple mind like that." Harry made no comment on Hermione's last statement.

They finished their breakfast, gleefully explaining why they were both wearing Malfoy's badges. The twins loved it and were determined to get a pair of their own by the end of the day. Most of the Hufflepuffs were already wearing it, but most weren't audacious enough to leave it on the _POTTER'S A GLORY HOUND_ message, and few noticed the one-word difference on the first message. By the end of the day, it seemed that Hermione had achieved what Draco had initially intended- nearly everyone in school wanted to wear a badge. Many people, even those who didn't like the fact that Harry wasn't competing for Hogwarts, didn't want to wear the original version because it would make them look like insulting jerks. The new one was humorous and actually served well as a Triwizard souvenir.

The next two weeks consisted of training with the twins along with Lee a few times. With the extra practice, Harry got good enough that be began to practice dodging while holding the broom with only one hand, practicing simple stunners, reductors, banishing and summoning charms, and shields with his wand in his other hand. At this point, Hermione joined in, sending minor jinxes for Harry to block. At this point, Harry began having some trouble, but he realized he could use some light legilimency to help predict where everyone was aiming. When he did that, it once again got much easier. He knew not to rely on it too much, however, because in the actual trial he would be dodging mostly obstacles and creatures , instead of the other champions. They got to the point where he even tried dodging the Whomping Willow- but after barely dodging one branch, and getting his shirt torn off in the process, Hermione didn't let him go near the tree again.

On the days where he wasn't getting bludger-dodging practice with the twins or the tree, Harry and Hermione began attempting their animagus transformations. Sharing what they saw of each other's forms with legilimency, they knew exactly what to turn into, which made the visualization far easier. They began with small, superficial changes, like hair to feathers and toenails to talons. They had mastered the simple changes and were ready to begin morphing their arms and legs by the end of the second week. Unfortunately, it was clear they wouldn't be anywhere close to mastering the full transformation in time for the Trial, but they were determined not to rush their work, as an incomplete or incorrect transformation was quite dangerous.

At night, just before curfew, they would sneak back down to the Chamber of Secrets to check on the eyesight potion. At first, they thought of using the Room of Requirement, but they realized that if they left the potion in there for a week, other people would come across the room eventually. It was a relatively simple one to make, but it just required a lot of simmering time as well as a few expensive ingredients. Dobby supplied a few raw onions to get some tears out of Harry, tailoring the potion specifically to his eyes. Three days before the Trial of Air, Harry was laying on his back in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Hermione was obviously more nervous than he was.

"Don't make me tell you again," growled Harry playfully. "Just do it."

The potion had been simmered down to only a few concentrated drops. Hermione carefully pulled one drop up with an eyedropper, and dripped it into one of Harry's eyes. Hermione figured that, even if Harry trusted her with his life (and eyesight), they'd still do only one eye at a time so he wouldn't be completely blind if the potion came out incorrectly.

"How did that feel?"

"Not too bad, actually," answered Harry, blinking rapidly. "I can really feel it spreading around my eyeball, but it's not even uncomfortable."

"Huh... that's odd..." said Hermione, looking worried. "The book said there should be some mild pain involved. Harry, what if this means I screwed something up?"

"Hermione, you probably improved the formula by accident or something so that it doesn't hurRRRRRRTTT! Oh god, there it is! Mild pain my arse! OWWW! It feels like there's shards of glass in my eye! AHHH!" Harry looked like he wanted to claw at his eye, but he knew not to touch it. Hermione helped restrain him. "It hurts to look at things! It's too bright!"

"Um... it should only last a little while, Harry. Some light sensitivity is pretty normal... Stay still..." Hermione was now straddling him, pinning his arms to his side while caressing his face.

"Ugh! It hurts to blink, Hermione... this is just... ow ow ow..." Harry eventually settled down, although still in pain, kept silent. His eyes were watering so much he thought he might run out of tears soon. About five minutes later, the pain ended.

"Is... is that better, Harry?"

"Err... yeah. Wow, this is pretty amazing. I had no idea things were supposed to look so sharp at a distance." Harry was winking alternately with each eye, amazed at the difference he was seeing. He was staring at Hermione's face, seeing every hair on her head, every line in her irises, every little detail on her skin. Compared to his other eye, which really only let him notice that she was human, female, and brown-haired without his glasses, it was a marked improvement. He kept looking at her one eye at a time, marvelling at the difference.

"Harry, will you stop winking at me like that? It's really odd." Hermione said. She was used to, and flattered by, Harry's habit of staring at her when they were alone, but the way he was doing it this time did make her feel rather peculiar.

"Whoops... I kind of got carried away there. Let's do the other eye." Harry lay down again as Hermione dripped one drop of the potion into his other eye. Another five minutes of restrained thrashing and cursing later, Harry was seeing perfectly.

"Thank you thank you thank you! Hermione, you've changed my life more than I can imagine... I can't possibly thank you enough." Harry hugged her, lifted her off her feet and spun her around. Letting her back down, he immediately kissed her. Hermione was caught breathless, and smiled at him without saying a word. Harry kept on going, "You've let me _see_ things! I never even knew how much I've been missing. I can't even imagine how much of _life_ I'd be missing without you in it, Hermione."

"My life has certainly been a lot more interesting with you in it, Harry, and I wouldn't trade it for the world."

"Becoming friends with you was the best thing I ever did. I really have to thank Quirrel for sending that troll into Hogwarts back in first year," Harry joked.

"Wouldn't that mean you'd be thanking Voldemort, as well?" Hermione pointed out to him.

"Fine, that's one reason less out of a million for permanently sending him six feet under," Harry said in a faux-sulking tone. "Can we talk about cheerier things now?"

"Well, how about celebrating your newfound eyesight? It's too late to watch another sunset, but maybe we can sneak up to the Astronomy tower and watch a few stars..." Hermione mused aloud.

"Mm... we could get caught up there. Besides, there's a much more beautiful sight I'd rather feast my eyes upon with my newfound eyesight."

"What? Where?"

"You, silly. Why don't we just stay down here for a while... I want to just stay here with you. You're all I want to see right now, Hermione."

Hermione blushed as they drew closer together. Harry watched in rapt fascination as her cheeks grew rosy, then moved his eyes to her lips, her nose, her eyes. They lay together as Harry played with her hair, stroking and inspecting locks, taking his time and combing his fingers through. Lifting one of her hands, he saw the softness of her fingertips, the lines on her palm, and the glint of light from her fingertips... he took in every little detail he never realized was there for the years he had known her. They lay together until midnight, cherishing the longest private moment they had in weeks.

* * *

The morning of the Trial of Air, Harry woke with his heart already thumping. Hermione reminded him of important things to remember for the Trial. "Alright, Corrieshalloch Gorge is about 60km long, with only 1.5km visible to muggles. I'm guessing they probably won't bring us that close to the muggle area, so the course is probably only 55km. Your Firebolt's top speed is close to 150 km/h, but you'll only rarely hit top speed, so prepare for a 40-minute long race or so. Now, the most dangerous native creatures to the gorge are griffinettes, which are much smaller than griffins, but they like to attack in packs. Your best bet for them is the _Ventascindo_, the Splitting Wind. I wouldn't be surprised if they told Hagrid to bring a few hippogriffs, too. If you can't stun them, just try to outfly them..." Hermione was nearly overwhelming him with information, but he knew every bit of it was important.

Hermione coached him as long as she could, until they flooed to Ullapool. From there, the champions were escorted away immediately. She had to make her way to the stands. Luckily, she had one of the best seats in the house, as Harry had given her his complimentary ticket as a guest of the champion. Harry was led to the champion's tent, where they would be told the final details of the trial. While waiting, Harry tried to evaluate his competition.

Krum was the obvious one. He was holding a Firebolt like Harry, but it looked a little different. The twigs at the back were trimmed differently, and the front handle had a double-hand grip attached. The stirrups had a closed-toe design that clamped right down onto his boots, so he could let go with both hands without losing control of the broom. It was obviously a customized version, tailored to his preferences. As a professional seeker, there were no doubts as to his skills. Harry had seen him flying around the Durmstrang's ships masts and rigging, pulling amazingly tight turns at high speed, every morning. He obviously didn't want to let his Quidditch skills deteriorate over the course of the year. His magic, however, was equally impressive, if the rumours proved true. Krum had been a high-level amateur dueller in Durmstrang, and only chose Quidditch as his career because it had better pay. Given how a large portion of professional duellers came from Durmstrang, being one of the best at that school automatically made him deadlier than most of the people in the professional league. He would have no problem blasting his way through this event.

Harry also had a fairly good idea of how Cedric stacked up. Cedric was fairly good on his Nimbus 2000, and Harry had to admit, they were probably evenly matched in terms of flying skill. Harry was better at spotting the snitch, he had the faster broom, and he was smaller, so that made him a better seeker. With his improved eyesight, there would be no contest. That particular skill, however, didn't quite apply in a race. Harry would still be faster than Cedric, and be able to outmanoeuvre him thanks to his Firebolt, but Cedric generally made the right decisions and knew where to fly and when to dodge. He was also top of his year at school, so his skill in charms, transfiguration, and defense were all top-notch. He had no strength in particular, but was quite creative when mixing up different spell combinations.

Fleur was the unknown quantity in this event. Harry noticed the broom she was holding wasn't one he saw on a regular basis- a Cloudrunner Hurricane. Cloudrunner was a division of the Nimbus broom company that specialized in racing brooms. While not nearly as agile as Quidditch brooms, they could nearly double the top speed of the Firebolt on a long, straight stretch. Quidditch players would never use them, of course, because they'd never reach those speeds inside of a Quidditch pitch. Fleur was either taking a gamble that speed would win over agility, or she was simply more comfortable with this broom- which meant she had experience in broom racing. Either way, she was most definitely looking at flight over fight to win.

Harry was rather nervous, and once again reverted to his occlumency to help soothe himself. He systematically went over every spell Hermione had taught him over the past two weeks, as well as the creatures she mentioned. He noticed the other champions staring at him. Krum was looking at him with a bit of amusement, probably because they shared a broom. Cedric had a kind, big-brotherly smile on his face. He didn't wish Harry any harm, but he obviously didn't consider him a threat. To be honest, Cedric knew Harry was a fairly average student, three years below him- although he probably hadn't heard about Harry's training with Moody or his rapid learning rate since the beginning of summer. Fleur was still watching him with disdain, as if he was more of an obstacle than an opponent.

Ludo Bagman walked into the tent. "Alright, Champions, the race will begin in one hour. I'll tell you what you're about to face now." The champions sat down while Bagman remained standing in front of them. "Your task is to retrieve a golden egg from a Zuu nest at the other end of the gorge. The gorge is 57 km in length. You will bring the egg back to the starting point, which makes the entire course a 114km long race."

_We have to go to the end and back? Damnit, I should have seen this coming. It's probably going to take nearly an hour and a half, not forty minutes_, thought Harry.

"I'm glad you all brought your brooms. I'll reiterate anyways, brooms are the only flying device allowed on this course. Touching the ground or flying above the top of the gorge is a disqualification. You will be scored by the judges based primarily on your time, but you will also receive bonuses or penalties depending on your spellwork, any fouls against your fellow champions, and any injuries you sustain. Any questions?"

_That's pretty clear. Get the egg, get back,_ thought Harry.

"Get yourselves ready. We'll be calling you out of the tent at quarter-to."

Bagman left the tent, and the four champions settled down. They all prepared themselves for the upcoming race. Harry settled on drinking some juice and meditating some more, making sure he had all the best spells at the top of his mind. Outside, there were anthems playing and people making speeches, all of which bored him. Finally they all heard the announcement.

"...Please welcome, our champion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Cedric Diggory!" A huge round of applause came as Cedric stepped out of the tent.

"...from Durmstrang Institute, Viktor Krum!" Another round of cheering.

"...from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Fleur Delacour!" Lots of cheers, as well as a few wolf-whistles were heard from the crowd.

"...and from Hogwarts, but competing as an independent, Harry Potter!" Harry stepped out of the tent to see an extremely large amphitheatre encircling the starting line, filled to the brim with people cheering and clapping. It wasn't nearly as strong as the applause for the other three champions, however, as it appeared many of the people had read Skeeter's article. He could even make out a few people booing him, but they were lost to the general noise of the crowd. He made his way to the starting line next to the champions.

"Champions, are you ready?" They all nodded, and mounted their brooms.

"Take your marks..." Harry leaned into his broom and tensed up, ready to blast away at the signal. The others did the same.

"GO!"

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- the pain that Harry felt from the eyesight potion is pretty much what I felt after laser eye surgery after the anesthetic wore off. Except that it lasted a week.

- Chapter revised, just spotted some spelling and grammar mistakes.


	15. The Trial of Air

**Author's Notes: **HP is JKR's

- I've realized this story has really become pretty huge without even realizing it. I'm nearing 100k words and I'm not even close to finishing the "setup." At least I'll have a rough idea of where to go for quite a while...

* * *

**Chapter 15: The Trial of Air**

"GO!" Bagman's wand emitted a bright green flare and a loud bang. Before the sound could even echo, all four champions were rocketing away. Harry and Viktor took the immediate lead, thanks to the fast acceleration of their Firebolts. Cedric followed far behind, while Fleur tailed just behind him. In a few short seconds, they had already flown past the last of the stands, and only had tracking orbs along the course to watch them now.

Krum was pulling away from Harry gradually. Despite his larger frame, it seemed his customized Firebolt let him move slightly faster. Fleur had shot past Cedric and was now right behind Harry. Oddly enough, Fleur hadn't passed them. He knew she could have easily maintained her speed and taken the lead, but she held back. Her reason for doing so became clear immediately. The first major obstacle was a tangle of vines across the canyon. They were all moving- Harry was sure they would snare him if he tried to blast his way through. Krum was heading straight to the center of the net, while Harry dove down to the bottom to avoid it completely.

"_Incendio!_" Krum let off a powerful flame hex that cut straight through the center of the mass of vines. As soon as the flames abated, the vines quickly began to regrow. Fleur took the opportunity to catch up to Krum and squeeze in behind him without wasting her strength, while Harry dropped behind from taking the longer route. _So that's what she's planning_, thought Harry. _Let Krum do all the work first, huh?_ He tried to keep up with the two of them, but they were pulling further ahead. He heard another _Incendio_ shouted behind him. Apparently Cedric had chosen to fly straight through as well, and wasn't far behind. Pouring on the speed, Harry pushed his broom to the limit to outrun Cedric, and tried not to let Fleur or Krum out of sight.

A few minutes later, he had run into the next obstacle- thick, heavy trunks of trees were splayed across the gorge for quite a distance. Even the Bulgarian powerhouse would have trouble blasting his way through all of them- the only choice was to squeeze through the tangled maze. He saw Krum already halfway through, while Fleur lagged behind considerably. Her broom was made for wide, banking, high-speed turns, not rapid and jerky movements. She was using a combination of reductors and manoeuvring to try to maintain her speed and fly as straight as possible. Harry caught up to her quickly and began nimbly swerving past the thick logs. Cedric followed, and both managed to leapfrog ahead of the French witch.

As soon as they emerged from the last of the woodwork, it was apparent Krum was very busy- he had stirred up a harpy nest, apparently, and several were chasing him down. They were shrieking and warning the other nests further ahead. He was rapidly firing stunning spells, forcing many of the harpies to dive out of his path, but many came at him from above, below, and beside him. While casting, he was slamming them left and right with his body. Harry and Cedric both knew they would have just as much trouble trying to take them alone as well, and decided to help Krum. Harry sent a wind-splitter to throw some of the harpies off balance, while Cedric cast a reductor at the side of the cliff. The blast of pebbles scared off a few of the creatures, and all three kept together, flying as a group to get through the mass of vicious avians. Harry suddenly felt something approach- looking around, he felt a sudden gust of wind and saw a slight shimmer as something moved past him. Fleur had decided to disillusion herself and fly past all three at top speed while the harpies were distracted. She's a s_neaky one, _Harry thought with some annoyance. _She's more of a Slytherin than any of the Slytherins in Hogwarts._

Harry was the first to break away from the group as they were nearing the last of the nests. Confident in his dodging skills and thankful for his small size, he took on the last few approaching harpies by himself, evading all their attacks and leaving Krum and Cedric behind. Fleur had raced so far ahead he couldn't see her any more. He couldn't let her take a bigger lead. Thankfully, the next leg of the canyon had a fair bit of twists and turns, so Fleur would be having trouble maintaining her top speed. Another five minutes later or so, Krum had once again caught up to Harry and was about to pass him again, with Cedric lagging far behind. Up ahead, gorge became a much narrower ravine. There was barely any room to move left or right- dodging up and down were the only options. Krum, seeing what lay ahead, quickly moved above Harry just before the entered the next section.

Thankfully, it was a relatively straight ravine, and Harry could see the end of it in the distance. Unfortunately, it was also home to Echoscreamer Bats, and several carnivorous spiders were known to make webs in the area. The bats loved cramped spaces with solid, echoing walls- they could scream magically enhanced voises that perfectly resonated with their environment to instantly deafen and daze anyone who trespassed into their territory. It seemed that Fleur had gotten past them without difficulty, but given the number of broken spiderwebs, she had to deal with the spiders herself. Krum flew as fast as he could, careful not to scrape the walls. Harry did the same. However, about three-quarters of the way through, Krum suddenly rose to the top of the ravine and cast a silent _Reducto_ above Harry's head. A shower of rocks pelted Harry as he desperately wiggled left and right, casting his shield charm to prevent the rocks from hitting him. His banging against the sides of the ravine bruised his shoulders and knees badly, while Krum shot ahead without so much as a scratch. Harry could hear a few shrieks of the bats as they awoke. He began to hear the din of the bats get louder and louder as they synchronized their voices. The pain in his ears quickly grew to the point where he was beginning to feel disoriented and off-balance. _What I wouldn't give for one of Professor Sprout's pink earmuffs right about now, _thought Harry. _Only fifty meters to go..._ Ignoring the pain and keeping his eyes on the exit, he flew on, bouncing back and forth across the walls, feeling dizzy.

He regained his bearings as he put some distance between himself and the bats. It seemed that, in the meantime, Cedric had once again caught up to him. Why didn't the bats affect him at all? Harry noticed him cancelling a spell on himself- probably some muffling or deafening spell. Krum was far ahead and Fleur was out of sight, so both of the Hogwarts students had a lot of catching up to do. They only about three-quarters of the way there already, by Harry's estimate. Coming around a wide bend, he saw Krum struggling against something invisible. Harry couldn't see what it was, but as he approached, he was struck by a strong gust of wind. He struggled to fly against it, and a few meters further he was hit by another gust going in a completely different direction. He was being tossed around by the wind itself. He thought back to another simple spell that Hermione had taught him only days ago. _"Now, if you ever need to see or visualize the wind for something, a good smoke spell should do the trick," _Hermione had said. "_Fumofluma_!" Harry cried out, holding his wand ahead of him. Smoke streamed out as he maintained the spell. The smoke was quickly dissipated by the strong winds, but Harry could easily tell where the wind changed direction. Keeping his wand pointed in front, he charged forward, spraying a continuous stream of smoke ahead of him. Flying through two kilometres of the insane winds, he finally saw that the smoke he was spewing was no longer being blown away. Picking up speed, he realized he was on the final stretch- a fairly wide, open course with no more obstacles. In the distance, he could see a massive bird with its wings outstretched- it had to be the Zuu.

Harry had nearly caught up to Krum after the wind-buffeted stretch, and he could see Fleur in the distance. She was holding back, wary of trying to take on the Zuu on her own. A little less than five minutes later, they had caught up, and the massive bird was in front of them. Massive, in fact, hardly described it. Its wingspan was nearly as wide as the entire gorge itself. Obviously, it wasn't native to Scotland- it was a Persian beast, revered in ancient times as a god. A single flap of its wings was enough to blow all of them back- the bird wasn't letting any of them near the nest.

Fleur, it seemed, had already given up trying to sneak past it with a simple disillusionment- it could read air currents so well, it could practically feel the champions' breaths. Instead, she was slowly approaching the Zuu on her broom, backwards. _Why was she doing that? _thought Harry. As he continued to approach, he saw Fleur cast a few spells, when the Zuu tried to peck at Fleur. She bolted forward to a safe distance, and then repeated. _Of course... racing broom. Forwards is the only direction she can move quickly with that thing._

When Krum arrived, he went for the direct approach. He flew straight into spell-casting range and launched a bone-breaking curse at the massive creature. Amazingly, it dodged the spell and recovered immediately, hovering in front of its nest without even flapping its wings.

Thankfully, although the bird was quite large and magically powerful, it wasn't exactly magic-resistant. Direct attacks would take more power to have effect simply because it was a larger creature, but its skin and feathers didn't deflect magic like dragon scale or basilisk hide. Harry and Fleur felt the same way, and as Cedric finally caught up, all four of them decided to attack simultaneously. The massive creature would have difficulty dodging four spells at once. Fleur decided to blind it first with a Light Flash. Unfortunately, it could still tell where they all were, but it did make it easier to hit with more spells. Harry kept with stunners, not wanting to kill the creature, while Cedric attempted to slow it down with impediment jinxes. Krum kept tossing bone-breakers, reductors, and slicing hexes, but the Zuu seemed to know which spells were the deadliest and dodged them. Fleur continued trying to distract it, conjuring some simple pigeons and banishing loose rocks at the massive bird, but it swept them all away, along with the champions, with another massive gust of wind. It wasn't until Krum finally managed to hit one wing with a bone-breaking hex that the Zuu could no longer generate its gusts, but it could still hover menacingly in front of its nest. It also seemed less nimble now, with one of its wings folded awkwardly, and it only took another few tries before Krum connected another bonebreaker with the other wing. Seizing the opportunity, Krum flew around it, and Harry knew this was the best time for him as well. The two of them had the most manoeuvrable brooms out of the four, and now they only had to contend with the Zuu's beak and talons. While Cedric and Fleur kept launching more spells to try to disable the bird further, Harry and Krum went on opposite sides of the bird to the nest behind it.

The Zuu knew that Krum was the one who had injured it badly, and decided to attack him with its talons first. Harry's relief didn't last long, as the bird turned around and decided to try to catch both of them at once, one with each claw. Harry concentrated on dodging, while Krum set another powerful spell at the bird's foot, causing it to recoil in pain. Cedric, now facing the bird's back, decided to charge ahead, conjuring thick ropes to lasso its head. He then conjured more rope to tie it to some vines growing on the sides of the cliff. The Zuu thrashed angrily, but with its mobility severely reduced, Harry could now try to grab one of the golden eggs. Diving down towards the nest and snatching the egg up quickly, he stuffed it in his shirt. He continued downwards towards the bottom of the gorge, out of the Zuu's reach as it snapped at the ropes that were tying it up. Krum did the same, and the two of them were off, once again racing neck and neck. They didn't look back at Cedric or Fleur, but they knew that, with the bird already badly injured and now partially tied up, the two of them would be gathering their eggs soon.

Another five minutes of full-speed flying across the free-flight section of the path brought them back to the windswept portion of the race. Harry pulled ahead when he used his smoke-spewing spell again to help guide him, but Krum quickly caught on to what Harry was doing and performed a similar spell, conjuring a fine mist of water instead. Harry was coming out ahead, though, as he seemed to have a better instinct for positioning himself to take advantage of the winds, while Krum was mostly fighting against it the entire way across. Behind him, he knew Fleur had already caught up, taking full advantage of her higher top speed to make up for lost time.

As he approached the narrow ravine again, he took the higher path, to avoid what Krum did to him the first time. Knowing the bats were probably still active, but without knowing an earmuff spell, he simply conjured a pair of foam earplugs and stuck them in his ears, and then rushed ahead. This time, the sound was annoyingly loud, but not debilitating like before. He didn't feel the same nausea or disorientation as last time, so he could concentrate on tossing low-powered stunners at any little bat that got in his way. The last thing he did before exiting the ravine was take a look behind, making sure Krum was still slightly behind him, and cast a reductor.

He knew there were another few minutes of easy cruising before he approached the harpy nests, and took the time to think about preparing a strategy. Should he charge ahead? Sneak past? He hadn't practiced disillusionment charms the past few weeks. _Mental note, disillusionment is very useful_, thought Harry. Perhaps his best bet was to simply fly through, dodging as best he could. As he approached, Fleur rocketed past him, her broom carrying her. Once again, she cast a disillusionment charm on herself as she bypassed the harpies. _Hm, if the Harpies rely on sight so much, maybe I can just blind them_, thought harry. Performing the same spell that Fleur had used against the Zuu, he shouted "_Lumos Fulgos!"_ as he shielded his eyes. Several harpies screamed, clawing blindly in a daze, he dodged them easily, but already the ones further away were beginning to advance on him. It would tire him out if he had to cast this constantly... he decided to dodge where he could and only use it if the harpies were beginning to overwhelm him.

Several scratches and about eight flares later, he was past the harpies. Krum wasn't too far behind, as Harry heard the gruff voice shouting spells while Harpies screamed. Fleur was long gone by now, but he had to do whatever he could to fend off Krum. Coming up to the logpile, he saw that Fleur had blasted away a few more, making a much clearer path through what was originally a jungle-gym of logs. Flying through the most obvious, open path, Harry began firing quick flame spells at the logs. A few of them caught fire. Harry smiled, knowing that within a few minutes Krum would have to stop to put out a few fires to get through the maze.

It completely surprised him, then, when he realized it didn't even slow Krum down. He heard him approaching from behind... taking a quick peek back, it seemed that Krum had simply cast a few flame-freezing charms where he could, and let his robes catch fire instead of slowing down. He was desperate to win at least second in this competition. Coming up to the vine-net, Harry knew this would be his last chance to stop Krum, who had caught up to him and they were once again racing neck-and-neck. Krum sensed victory as he prepared another flame hex. Harry knew that Krum was slightly faster, and if he couldn't stop Krum here, he'd definitely lose. Thinking quickly, he cast a Flame-freezing charm right on the tail of Krum's flame hex, and immediately pulled into a sharp dive. Krum's hex hit the net, immediately setting it on fire again, but the flame-freezing hex prevented the net from burning through. Harry flew underneath like the first time around, while Krum, surprised that his flames didn't cut a hole in the net, crashed straight into it and got himself tangled.

Harry flew past the finish line without looking back. The crowd roared as Bagman announced, "...and in second place, Harry Potter! He clocks in with a time of one hour, fifty-three minutes, and eighteen seconds. This should factor very well into his scores." He was tired, his body was aching, his ears were ringing, and his throat was dry. He saw officials waving at him to go to the medical tent for a checkup, and he stumbled his way there in a daze. Inside the tent, he immediately grabbed a cup of juice and gulped it down, and immediately went for another. Four cups later, the mediwitches finally got him to walk over to one of the beds, where they closed the curtains around him as he sat down. With his head throbbing and heart pounding, he knew it would be a while before he was back to feeling normal.

The mediwitches began their checkup, immediately noticing the damage to his ears. "I knew those bats were far too dangerous! You could have been permanently deafened," one of them muttered. After dripping a potion into each of his ears, Harry almost immediately felt the ringing disappear, and some of the dizziness faded away. Looking into each of his eyes, the witches were once again surprised.

"This chart says here that only two weeks ago your eyesight needed correction, and there's no record of you coming in for the procedure. You've done it already? And it appears it's better than normal, in fact."

"Um, a friend and I brewed the potion ourselves... and it was a different version, one that was tailored to me," Harry said. "She told me it would work better than the standard potion they give at St. Mungo's."

"You didn't see a healer about it instead? You could have gone blind, or worse!"

Harry shrugged. "I'm confident in my friend's brewing abilities. It's over, it worked, so let's just leave it at that, alright?"

Shaking her head in frustration, the mediwitch proceeded to check up on his other wounds, most of which were superficial. The majority came from crashing into the walls of the narrow ravine and scratches by the harpies on the way back. A few simple spells healed them, and a single potion took care of the light bruising and aches. Noticing a small tear at the back of his robes, she asked Harry to remove his shirt. Without thinking, he began taking it off, but suddenly realized his mistake. He quickly pulled his shirt back down, but it was already too late.

"What on earth happened to your back, Mr. Potter?"

"Nothing. Old wounds. A quick _Episkey_ should fix up the scratch I got today," Harry tried to make up as an excuse.

"Look, Mr. Potter, everything I find here will be held in strictest confidentiality. It's part of the healer's oath we mediwitches take, I promise you that. Can you show me what it is? I need to confirm it for your health..."

"No," answered Harry firmly. "I'm just telling you now that it's not affecting my health, so please don't ask anything more about it."

"Mr. Potter, I really must..." the mediwitch began to plead.

"No, and that's final. I'll be leaving now, unless you can tell me that I'm in mortal peril unless you treat me for something?" Harry faked his anger, desperate to hide the runes on his back.

The mediwitch sighed. "Nothing more, Mr. Potter, except I just need a drop of blood to confirm you didn't take any illicit potions..."

Harry nodded, allowing her to prick his finger and dripped the blood into a vial. The witch stepped through the curtains and dropped it into a cauldron at the back of the tent, which fizzed for a little and then puffed up some white smoke. "You're clear," she told Harry when she came back. He immediately left tent, noticing two other stalls had their curtains closed as he passed by. Fleur was standing outside, waving to the crowd. Evidently, both Krum and Cedric had arrived during his checkup.

Looking up at the scoreboards, he noticed that Fleur had arrived over ten minutes before he did, while Krum was less than a minute behind- his move at the vine-net had bought him just enough time to take second place. Cedric was about twenty minutes behind Krum- having the slower broom as well as being the last to grab the egg really cost him. The final scores had yet to be announced, as the judges were waiting for all the champions to finish their medical checkups and doping tests first. Beside the scoreboard, several images were projected by large orbs. They were replays of the events as recorded by the tracking orbs to keep the crowds entertained. One was dedicated to the fight with the Zuu, while two others flashed between the various obstacles. Fleur noticed Harry had left the tent and turned to him. "Eet seems I was meestaken about you," she said. "You are not quite as... inexperienced as I first thought, are you?"

"And I thought you were just another pretty face," said Harry. "To be frank, I thought Krum would be my greatest threat in this event."

"Ah, oui. You do not know 'ow many men theenk zat of me," she said. "You cannot eemagine 'ow... _condescendant_ zey can be when zey assume I prefer to sit een a chair all day instead of feeling ze wind in my 'air..." Her accent was slipping heavily as her temper flared behind her.

"Oh, I think I can guess," Harry smirked. "I am the Boy-Who-Lived, after all. Everyone wants to put me and my scar on display like I'm some kind of freak show. Our minister of magic keeps wanting me to pose with him as if I actually support him. Of course, whenever anything goes wrong, they're just as quick to blame me as well," he growled, thinking of his second year.

"Haha, I forget you are ze great hero of Britain. Zey expect you to be a hero again, and blame you when you are not. For me, zey always theenk I am only good for one thing. When I was ze only woman in ze tournament, zey thought I would win with just my beauty and my Veela charm."

"Hah! You wouldn't have any effect on me anyways," laughed Harry.

"Oh really? Would you like to test yourself against my allure? I have yet to meet a man who could stop themselves from grovelling in front of me if I wanted to," Fleur informed him, her lips curled into a doubtful smirk.

"Try me." Harry looked straight into her bright, blue eyes. He saw them shimmer slightly and her hair fluttered when her face suddenly seemed to take on a surreal, dreamlike beauty. Everything around him seemed to fade out of existence as he was drawn to her perfectly smooth skin, lusciously red and moist lips... _This must be the allure_, thought Harry, as he poured a bit more strength into his occlumency. Inside his mind, he could feel as if there were flower petals flying in the wind, floating through the clouds. He shot them down with his spaceship, and the Fleur in front of him went back to looking like the beautiful, but realistically pretty, Fleur.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Fleur." The witch was surprised, but playfully pouted as she turned up the strength of her allure. In the distance, it seemed like many of the male officials were having a hard time staying in their seats. Harry was one again shooting down blooming roses inside his mind, not letting any bit of the allure affect him. Completely ready for it this time, Fleur didn't even begin looking dreamy and Harry could look away from her easily to enjoy seeing everyone else's reactions. He heard a scuffle coming from the medical tent- apparently Krum and Cedric were both finished their checkups and were now scrambling over each other to get to Fleur. "I think it's about time you turned it off, Fleur," he said, laughing and pointing at the two older champions.

Fleur immediately turned down the allure, looking at Harry with a very curious expression. Krum recovered first, stopping himself immediately and holding Cedric back until Fleur ended her allure completely. "I haff vorked vith cheerleaders at practice vith Bulgarian team, but they never turned on full allure this close to me," growled Krum. He was obviously more angry at himself for succumbing to Fleur than at her for using it. Cedric just kept silent in embarrassment.

"It looks like all of our champions have finished their post-race checkups and are now ready for their final scores!" shouted Bagman with his enhanced voice. The four of them were escorted back to the start/finish line, where a small stage for them had been placed. Each of the officials also made sure they had their eggs with them before telling them to go onstage.

"Last to arrive was Cedric Diggory, with a time of two hours, ten minutes and twenty-nine seconds. He will be awarded thirty-three points. Twenty for placing fourth, with thirteen bonus points for excellent use of the earmuff charm in the ravine, taking minimal injuries against the harpies, and for restraining the Zuu. Cedric was the only competitor to suffer no deductions." Images of Cedric's performance at those particular obstacles were being projected above by the display orbs. The crowd cheered especially hard the moment Cedric lassoed the Zuu, as well as when he took on the harpies by himself on the way back. Cedric simply smiled and waved without letting his disappointment show.

"In third place, we have Viktor Krum, with a time of one hour, fifty-four minutes, and ten seconds. He will be awarded fifty-four points. Forty for placing third, with eighteen bonus points and four deductions. His powerful spellwork was displayed when disabling the Zuu with the bone-breaker curse, as well as fending off the harpies. Additional points were awarded for bravery, being the first to attempt to retrieve the egg. Points were deducted for sustaining injuries in the ravine, burns in the log maze, and hitting the vine net." Harry tried to keep a straight face as he realized every one of Krum's deductions were caused by him. Krum remained as stoic as ever, only bowing slightly to the judges' table. The crowd cheered when they were shown Krum's fight with the harpies as well as his retrieval of the egg.

"In second place, we have Harry Potter, with a time of one hour, fifty-three minutes, and eighteen seconds. He will be awarded seventy points. Sixty for placing second, with sixteen bonus points and six deductions. His exceptional flying ability was demonstrated against the windswept valley, the Zuu, and the harpies. Additional bonus points were awarded for being the first to successfully retrieve the egg and great use of simple spells." The orbs projected his modified light spells against the harpies, smoke-spewing charm at the windswept valley, and the flame-freezing charm against Krum. Bagman continued. "Deductions were for sustaining injuries in the ravine, twice, as well as against the harpies." Harry winced, knowing how much the quick exposure to the bats' screams had affected him. He followed Cedric's example and simply smiled and waved to everyone.

"In first place is Fleur Delacour, with a time of one hour, forty-two minutes, and twenty-two seconds. She will be awarded ninety-one points. Eighty points are for arriving in first place, with fourteen bonus points and three deductions. The bonus points are for her skilful use of the disillusionment charms to get past the harpies and clearing the spiders in the ravine. The deductions are for being the last to retrieve the egg as well as taking the least action against the Zuu." Fleur did have to admit that, while she arrived first, she hung around and waited for five minutes, while Krum and Cedric did most of the work in taking it down. Still, she was in first place, and the crowds cheered for her. She blew some kisses for the photographers, holding her golden egg up for everyone to see.

It took another half-hour of standing on stage and waving before all the announcements and speeches were finally over and the photographers were satisfied with photos for tomorrow's paper. They were led back into another tent, where Bagman and other officials joined them. One of them asked for their eggs for safe keeping, which they all handed over. Bagman then sat them down to inform them of the next task.

"Good show today, everyone. I dare say that if all of you can keep up this kind of excitement we'll have no trouble selling out all the events! Now, the next one is the first Trial of Champions. It'll be held three weeks from now, on December 10th. The trial of champions is going to be a simple duel, standard European Duelling League rules. You will each have three duels, beginning at eleven in the morning, with a two-hour break in between each one. They'll be held at Hogwarts. Simple enough, eh? I hope to see some action between all of you!" Bagman cheerfully left, and Harry felt an intense dread. He had just cost Krum twenty points... or twenty-four points, depending on how you counted it. Krum was also an experienced dueller at Durmstrang.

Harry walked out of the tent as quickly as his legs could carry him. Hermione was already waiting for him and leapt into his arms when she saw him. "Harry! You were fantastic out there!"

"Thanks, Hermione. You know I couldn't have done it without you. You taught me so much in the past few weeks."

"Thanks, Harry... but I was so worried when you were in the ravine! You almost fell off your broom... I'm so sorry, Harry! I should have taught you the self-muffling charm, it would have made things so much better. And I wasted so much time on creatures you didn't even face, and you were having so much trouble with the ones I forgot about..." Hermione was clutching him, getting more and more agitated.

"Hermione, you can't possibly blame yourself. The Zuu was some kind of Persian bird, wasn't it? There's no way you could have guessed it would be the big bad bird at the end. It might as well have been some North American Thunderbird or something..." Harry reassured her.

"But... I did read about it, but I dismissed the idea... and you nearly got yourself killed when you went for the egg before it was completely restrained! Harry, I shouldn't have...mmffh-"

Harry decided to stop her from talking any more, and reassure her at the same time with a kiss. "Hermione, I'll say this again. Don't blame yourself." He gave her another peck. "You probably read everything there is to know about magical birds for this task." Another quick kiss. "I can't possibly handle that much. You made _good choices_ to leave out stuff or else I would have been overwhelmed." Their lips touched again. "I never could have done as well as I did without you, Hermione, so I'll tell you again- don't doubt yourself. You're my saviour, Hermione." He ended his little speech by locking lips once more, and neither one wanted this one to end.

"Couldn't you have at least let me get one word in?" asked Hermione when they finally broke apart.

"No, not until I was done," smiled Harry. "What did you want to say?"

"Well, I knew what you were going to say after the first line, but I decided to let you keep going," she answered. "And I wanted to let you know that you're my saviour as well."

"I'd jump in front of any spell for you."

"Well, I was hoping you'd be a better dueller than that, Harry. Let's go back to the castle and figure out a training regimen, Harry," Hermione said, grinning.

"What? Right away?" Harry gave her a pleading look, but all she did was slap him on the back as they both mounted the Firebolt, enjoying the late, sunny afternoon.

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**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- wow, that was my first chapter without a line break, i think.

- chapter revised. A few little changes here and there, fixed up the wording in some places, nothing much.


	16. Knowing is Half the Battle

**Author's Notes:** I'm only writing this for fun, not profit.

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**Chapter 16: Knowing is Half the Battle**

The Sunday paper arrived and all the students and staff who didn't make it to the Trial of Air eagerly awaited it. The results were splayed across the front page. Since Cedric came in last, the British had quickly latched on to Harry as the pride of Britain- making the entire Hufflepuff table extremely angry. Cedric was gracious enough, since he was expecting to lose going in. Although he was seeker for the Hufflepuffs, he only played Quidditch recreationally and was hoping to drop the position to study for his NEWTs that year. Against the best seeker in Hogwarts, and the best seeker in the professional Quidditch league, he wasn't expecting to come out of the Trial of Air any better than third. The fact that Fleur happened to be an amateur broom racer practically solidified his defeat. That didn't stop the Hufflepuffs from heckling him, though. It was easier to bear than when his name popped out of the Goblet, because now the Gryffindors (minus Ron) were all on his side, as if he once again represented Hogwarts. Harry could only shake his head at how fickle the masses were.

Harry picked up a copy of the paper out of interest. There he was, in his second-place glory, plastered all over the front page. Fleur, once again, was relegated to page three, but at least there was more text accompanying her pictures this time. Cedric and Krum received little more than stubs. Harry was proclaimed "Champion of Britain" with pictures of him dodging the Zuu's claws. However, there was another article that caught his eye.

_**Harry Potter: Doing Whatever It Takes to Win?**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The last time we checked in with our dear Harry Potter was when he somehow got his name to come out of the Goblet of Fire. This intrepid reporter has attempted to secure the truth of the matter herself, but so far, any investigation into Mr. Potter's wrongdoing have been stopped at the gates of Hogwarts by Tournament security officials and DMLE Aurors. Their only response? "This is an issue we are dealing with internally."_

_Now, you might ask, what chance does a fourth-year have against the top seventh-years from three different schools, one of which is already a professional Quidditch star? If you're thinking the way I do, then the answer is obvious: none at all. He still manages to snag second place, using the third-fastest broom in the competition. Praise him all you like, but bravery doesn't make you fly faster. The crowd favourite going in, Viktor Krum, had this to say: "I was caught off guard by how he used his spells against me."_

_That's right, folks. In this event, spells cast at another champion are disallowed. That's no concern for the young, non-affiliated champion, however. Many people in high places seem to have taken a liking to the young boy. When Harry Potter was being checked for illicit potion use, the mediwitch was shocked to find Potter was carrying something that he shouldn't have. Did she present this evidence to the officials? No, she let him go, saying he was completely clear of any prohibited potions and asked no more questions. Even more curious was this statement from Fleur Delacour, the first-place winner from the Trial of Air. "He practically looked bored while the officials were scrambling over themselves. I have never met anyone so... untouchable."_

_Clearly, with the judges in his pocket, the Boy-Who-Lived is turning this entire tournament..._

Harry threw down the paper in disgust without finishing the article. Hermione raised her eyebrow as she quickly read through it. "Well, that woman certainly has some talent."

"And what talent would that be? I'd like to drown her in a barrel of ink..." growled Harry.

"Now, you'll just get in trouble for that, Harry! Unless you ask me for help of course," Hermione said sweetly. "Anyways, I'm just talking about her talent for completely mis-quoting everyone and twisting facts just enough to not really be lies, but say everything wrong."

Harry picked up the paper and slowly read through it again. "Huh, I guess you're right. She didn't say anything that wasn't an outright lie... just bad opinion."

"So... Harry... what _was_ Fleur talking about in that quote, then?" Hermione asked with some annoyance.

"What? Oh, I'm guessing she was talking about how she tried her Veela allure on me. It didn't work." Harry grinned and put his arm around Hermione, as if to reassure her.

Hermione gasped. "Harry! Don't tell me she wanted you to be her boyfriend? Or maybe just a boy-toy...?"

"Oh, it wasn't anything like that. We were talking about how people just have these expectations of us, given how I'm the Boy-Who-Lived and she's a Veela. Somehow it ended with me daring her to use the allure on me. She turned it up full blast, but I handled it pretty easily."

"Harry, why on earth did you _want_ her to use her allure on you? Were you... flirting with her?" Hermione's voice was quivering, somewhere between nervousness and anger.

_Oh crap, that was a bad move, wasn't it? _thought Harry. _Was I getting too familiar with her? Why DID I do it? It was just to prove something, wasn't it? _He looked into Hermione's eyes and saw a dam about to burst if he said the wrong thing. He felt a pit drop out of his stomach. "I just... wanted to prove to myself... that nothing could take me away from you, Hermione. Not even a Veela who was trying her hardest." He gave her a soft kiss. Pulling back, he saw her expression soften into relief.

"You took too long to answer that question, Harry," Hermione said, still a little irritated. "But I believe you," she added with a smile. "There's one part I can't figure out... how did she know what was going on in the medical tent?"

"Wait, what? Was that just some kind of test?" Harry, for a second, nearly thought he was driving Hermione away from him.

Hermione grinned mischievously. "Don't worry, dear, you'll be getting an O from me if you keep doing what you always do. Now focus, Harry. Do you remember what happened during your checkup?"

Harry remembered the incident, nearly exposing the runes to the mediwitch. "My shirt got ripped during the race... the mediwitch noticed it and almost made me take it off, but I refused. Maybe she told her about it?"

"Not if she wanted to keep her job," answered Hermione. "I don't think a journalist could convince her to give up her career just for a quote in the paper."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, I guess you don't know about the privacy oath? It's not just something they say, Harry. It's one of the oaths that all mediwitches and Healers take upon graduation before they can start work. Apart from the Hippocratic oath, there's also an oath of confidentiality. She can't willingly talk about her patients, except to the patients themselves, their guardians, or other doctors, without prior consent or else she won't be able to work in the medical field again. And it's a magically binding oath."

Harry was surprised. He never knew about that, but it just added more to the mystery. If not from the healer, where else could Skeeter have gotten the information? The curtains themselves were silenced for privacy- he never heard Fleur leave or Krum and Cedric enter. "This is weird, Hermione. I almost let the mediwitch find out about the runes. I don't know how Skeeter was listening in to the conversation, but if she had seen them, I'm guessing that would be all over the newspapers. I don't want our secret getting out," he whispered.

"Maybe we can start practicing glamours, for now. I'll also do a bit of research to see if I can incorporate a hiding mechanism into the cluster. If not invisibility, then just a permanent glamour or something."

Harry knew what this was leading to. "You'll need to read a few books about it, I guess?"

Hermione nodded expectantly.

"Restricted books?"

Hermione nodded excitedly.

"Let's go."

* * *

"And why can't we just copy all these books into your tome, Hermione?" Harry stared at the wall of books that surrounded them. It was almost like a little fortress made of paper and leather.

"There's magical protections on the restricted books. And I can only copy books I already own, apparently," said Hermione.

"Oh..." Harry sulked a little, more disappointed in the fact that his gift to Hermione wasn't quite as useful as it seemed than having to flip through a lot of books. He enjoyed being with her, after all. The downside, of course, was that he always had to make room for her insatiable appetite for knowledge. After pulling a few books on glamours and disillusionment charms, she picked up a few more on Runes as well. Then she grabbed a bunch of spell books that dealt with privacy charms and wards. After only half an hour of reading, she realized very little of it was going to help Harry in his upcoming duels, so she found a few more for duelling. Harry was currently working his way through the latest copy of the official rule book of the European Duelling League. "Isn't there an easier one to read than this? It's just so hard to understand. I mean, it's all in English, but what does 'the release of a competitor's wand shall not constitute the defeat of said competitor without the prompt admission of their incapability of retrieval...' and all that mean?"

"That just means you don't lose the duel if you drop your wand as long as you can pick it up again," Hermione explained without looking up from her book.

"Then why don't they just write it that way?" Harry let out an exasperated groan. "You know what? I think I'd probably do better just fighting the duel and hoping I don't break any rules by accident instead of trying to remember them all."

"Hah! As if you really cared about rules, Potter!" came a venomous voice in front of him. Harry looked over the stack of books and saw a sixth-year Hufflepuff he didn't know. At his sides were Ernie Macmillan and another sixth year Harry recognized from Quidditch. What was his name again? Summers? Summerby? Sommerby? It didn't matter. He needed to respond to them.

"Sure I do," responded Harry in a loud whisper. "I wouldn't shout in the library. It's against the _rules_." Just as he said that, Madame Pince came around once again to warn them all.

"You're not getting away with it, Potter," growled the boy, more quietly this time. "We'll find out what you're up to."

"Yeah, don't think you'll fool us just because you're Harry bloody Potter. We don't care what people call you, we'll find the truth out ourselves," said Ernie.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, you do that, just like you did two years ago. I talk to one little snake and suddenly I'm the Heir of Slytherin. Weren't you the one who kept doing all the accusing and none of the investigating?"

"Shut it! You may have fooled Dumbledore, but you're not fooling us! You probably just called off your snake and then everyone thinks you're a hero! You're not getting away that easily this time!"

Harry did his best to remain calm. "So what have you actually got against me? Any evidence at all?"

"You're taking books from the restricted section! You're probably learning all about the dark spells you can use against Cedric!"

Harry's mind boggled at the huge leap of logic that Ernie just made. _Well, logic isn't one of the main traits of Hufflepuff, is it?_ he thought. He spoke his next sentence slowly and clearly. "You know that _all_ the champions are allowed access to the restricted section, right?"

"He wouldn't abuse his position, though! He'd never look up illegal spells! You trying to accuse Cedric of cheating like you? You want to bring him down with you?" snarled the sixth year.

Harry rubbed his temples. He had never had such a frustrating argument before. Then again, Hermione had told him in first year that wizards rarely had an ounce of logic. "It's not cheating if it's allowed by the rules," he tried to explain. "I've seen Cedric down here a few times as well."

"Hah! We knew you'd try to rat on him like that!"

"I just said it wasn't against the rules... you know what? This is pointless." Turning to Hermione, he asked her, "Want to study somewhere more private? This is just a waste of time."

They both grabbed a few of the more important books and headed to the front desk to sign them out. The trio of Hufflepuffs followed them. "Running away, Potter? We're not done with you!"

"But I'm done with you. Stop bothering me, you're not going to find anything." Harry said firmly as he walked out of the library.

There were more Hufflepuffs waiting outside the library. Well, they certainly had loyalty- to their own house, at least. Harry had already been on his guard since the three Hufflepuffs approached him in the library. With a quick legilimency scan, he determined none of them were prepared to cast spells at him- but they all felt hostile. "What do all of you want?"

"We want you to quit the tournament. You shouldn't even be in it!" shouted one of them.

"You guys do realize it's a binding magical contract, right? I had to compete once my name popped out," Harry answered through gritted teeth.

"That's just your excuse, isn't it? You just want to steal the grand prize out from under Cedric's nose!"

"In case you didn't notice, your Cedric didn't need Harry in the tournament to lose. Fleur and Krum are beating him, too," Hermione piped up.

"Who asked you, bookworm?" snarled one of the girls.

Hermione was perfectly capable of defending herself, Harry reminded himself. Since she wasn't bothered at all by the insult, Harry did another quick Legilimency scan. A lot of them were more riled up... an actual fight could break out at any moment now. They needed to get away. Hermione seemed to have done the same, and they both agreed they should leave now. Turning around without another word, they briskly strode away from the pack of 'puffs.

"Let me handle them," Harry whispered to his girlfriend. "At least one of them's about to blow their top about now."

"Why don't you want me to help?" asked Hermione. "I'm a perfectly capable witch, I'll have you know."

"I do know, but I need practice," Harry answered. "If I can't handle these Hufflepuffs, then I certainly won't be able to handle Krum. Oh, and shield your eyes."

"You think you can just walk away from us, Potter? We haven't finished!" came an angry shout. "_Impedimentia!"_

Harry cast the shield charm behind him as he turned around. The basic jinx bounced off the shield, back towards the group of Hufflepuffs. There were too many there, and too little space to move, and one of the younger girls ended up getting hit by the ricochet.

"Casting spells at me behind my back? I never thought you'd act like the Slytherins," Harry said mockingly, without letting his shield down. "None of you are _brave_ enough to challenge me to a face-to-face, one-on-one fight, are you?" he continued. "And if you were all _smarter_, you wouldn't have gotten yourselves stuck in this situation."

Harry didn't quite know why he was feeling so spiteful, but he had a suspicion that he'd experienced the hostility of the Hufflepuffs three times over before, but never this strongly. He could take the time to figure out what could be different this time around, but for now... "_Lumos Fulmeo!"_ The spell he used against the harpies was just as effective inside a crowded hall. The bright flash of light blinded the Hufflepuffs temporarily. Harry immediately brought his shield back up in case any were dumb enough to fire off spells blindly, while he and Hermione both ran up the stairs to get away.

Once they were in a safe, quiet place to study, namely the Room of Requirement, Hermione opened up one of the textbooks on illusions and said, "Harry, take off your shirt."

Harry was surprised by the sudden request, but did what he was told gleefully. "Err... what do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Lie down. On your stomach."

Harry didn't know what to expect, but he didn't expect nothing. After five minutes of quiet muttering from Hermione and not sensing anything at all, he asked, "Err... Hermione? What are you doing?"

"I'm practicing the glamour charm on your back. I can't seem to get it totally right... the colour and the texture of the image always seems to be a little off. Hold still for a while."

"Oh," said Harry, with quite a bit of disappointment.

"Don't worry, Harry, I'll give you a massage for being a good sport later." 'Later' was another half-hour when she finally hid all of Harry's runes under the glamour. She then straddled Harry and began pushing her palms down into his lower back. "You know, you're going to have a lot to prepare for with the upcoming duels."

"Hmmmm? Oh yeah, Krum..." Harry answered lazily. _My god, Hermione's good at this. Her hands are like a goddess!_ Harry thought. "Hermione, where did you learn to massage like this?"

"Read about some techniques," she answered while she raked his back with her fingertips. "What did you expect?"

"Should have guessed," he muttered in response.

"Now, about the upcoming duels... I think you might have to watch out for Cedric more than Krum," said Hermione.

"What? What makes you say that, Hermione?"

"I've heard about Krum's duels. He's a powerhouse, for sure. He throws difficult, damaging spells repeatedly, with quite a bit of force behind each one. He likes to attack head-on, and few opponents can even withstand his attacks before their shields break. But with the training we've been getting with Moody, I think you'll have a better time of dodging his spells than the others. Don't bother shielding, he'll probably just overwhelm you."

Harry was reminded of the fight with the Zuu- Krum had immediately gone for bone-breakers to injure the bird instead of trying distractions or easier hexes and jinxes to wear it down like Cedric or Fleur. "But what makes you think Cedric is dangerous, instead of Fleur? She did take first place, you know."

"Fleur won because she gambled and made the right bet. Unless she knew about the course beforehand, she was hoping that there would be more long stretches of straight flying than obstacles. You nearly caught up to her at every obstacle, you know. She had to grab the egg last because even Cedric, with his Nimbus 2000, could dodge the Zuu's talons more easily. She had to wear it down some more by herself before she could risk taking it."

Harry hadn't realized how much that had cost Fleur. She did have the fastest broom by a wide margin... but Harry had already flown halfway back before she finally caught up to him. If there were even more obstacles in the course... Harry shook his head. _I can't believe I wanted the first task to be even harder!_

"Now, Cedric, on the other hand, lost mostly because he had the worst broom of the lot. Maybe not a Firebolt, but even a Nimbus 2001 would have made him much more competitive. Did you remember his scores?"

"Uh, he did end with the lowest score, didn't he? It was thirty-something," Harry answered. He didn't want to think so much while enjoying Hermione's wonderfully soothing hands.

"Thirty-three, Harry. That's not the point. He had _zero_ deductions. The only one out of you three that managed that. Do you know what that means?"

"He didn't make any mistakes?"

"More than that, Harry. It means he knew how to deal with every one of the obstacles without getting hurt. Krum's pretty predictable- he hits hard, fast, and head-on. Cedric probably knows dozens of spells to deal with every situation he's faced with. You'll probably have to use legilimency in a duel against him or you'll never be able to predict what he'll do."

"What about Fleur?"

"I can't figure her out. She's a sneaky one, for sure. She doesn't seem to waste any effort that she doesn't have to. She barely cast any spells at all during the entire race, and it was usually just a few basic ones, except for the disillusionment. I have no idea what her strengths or combat style are, but I'd guess she has a natural affinity for fire, thanks to being Veela, but I doubt she'd let herself be that predictable."

"Thanks, Hermione. You've given me a lot to think about." Harry settled down and relaxed until Hermione had finished the massage. With an hour to go until dinner, Hermione managed to teach Harry the basics of the glamour so he could re-apply it himself, and they still had time left over for Harry to give her a massage in return.

* * *

Harry and Hermione walked to dinner with their wands ready to be released from their holsters. Thankfully, the Gryffindors seemed to be on their guard as well, and the entire Hufflepuff table glared at them as they sat down. They were surprised, then, when Cedric himself got up and walked over. Ignoring the heckling from the Gryffindors, he asked Harry directly, "Can we talk? Alone?"

"You're not going to call your pack of badgers on me? I'd rather have Hermione at my side," he answered, flicking his wand into his hand under the table.

"That's that I wanted to talk to you about," he said. "And I guess Hermione should come too, I heard she was there when it happened."

Harry and Hermione got up from their seats and followed Cedric. While they were far enough away from both the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor table, Cedric said, "I'm sorry about what my house did to you two this afternoon. I didn't tell them to do it. I just hope you believe me."

"And why should I?" Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Look, I trusted you when you said you didn't put your name in the cup. I'm just asking you to trust me now," he said.

Harry relented. "Alright, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. But why'd they do it, anyways? Will you tell them to stop?"

"I'll try, Harry, but you know I don't control my house. Heck, not even Professor Sprout can really control everyone. But I saw how you flew, and I know you beat me fair and square. To be honest, I didn't really care for the Trial of Air."

"What? I thought you'd try harder, being the Hufflepuff Seeker and all."

"I'm only the seeker because there wasn't anyone else to play the position. I don't plan on playing Quidditch professionally, Harry. And up against a professional player, along with the school star, I decided not to try to out-fly you guys. It's only one trial out of seven, anyways. I'll make up for it in the other events."

"You probably could have done better with a better broom, you know. You didn't have to get a Firebolt, but something better than the Nimbus, at least..."

"It was the house broom, Harry. It wasn't even mine. I'm not going to spend a fortune just for one event, you know."

"Couldn't Professor Sprout have ordered you a newer one, like the Comet 250 or Nimbus 2001?"

Cedric shook his head. "Professors can't help us other than with our regular coursework, remember? Buying a broom for the house team when there's no Quidditch this year would be pretty obvious."

"Alright then. Why don't your housemates understand that, though? Surely you've told them..."

"I have, Harry. But while Hufflepuffs are known for their loyalty... a few take it a bit too far and practically turn it into blind devotion. They started rooting for me a few weeks ago, and they won't stop even if I told them to. I'm sure you've been called 'reckless' instead of 'brave' more than once, right?"

Harry nodded in understanding. "Yeah... and Slytherins keep flaunting their pure blood, but it looks to me more like inbreeding."

Hermione added quietly, "And some people let their curiosity turn into into obsession..."

"Oh, you'll forever be curious, Hermione," Harry said. "Thanks, Cedric. I'll try to make sure none of the Gryffindors do anything... reckless to you, if you'll try to get a hold of your 'puffs."

"Agreed. Good luck with the duels, Harry." They returned to their tables to enjoy their dinners. The next three weeks, hopefully, would be a little calmer.

* * *

Calmer, perhaps, but certainly not easier. Hermione convinced Neville and Luna to help Harry with his duelling skills- part of which was attempting to dodge stinging hexes being cast at him. He found he could handle one-on-one pretty easily, while two-on-one tired him out in less than three minutes. He lasted only thirty seconds with a three-on-one. When his muscles were completely aching, Hermione gave him a Pepper-Up potion and began working on his spellcasting. At first, he blasted spells out at full power, just so he had a better understanding of his own endurance levels. Before he was completely drained, they would spend the rest of the day working on silent casting. Harry and Hermione found they both had a knack for it (or possibly prior experience) and picked it up quickly, although they began to teach Neville and Luna as much as they could. They continued this every day after classes for the rest of the week.

The first Saturday with Moody, Harry mentioned the disillusionment spell as well as Rita Skeeter's possible eavesdropping. Moody immediately began a speech about the importance of information and reconnaissance before a battle. They spent the rest of the day learning not only the disillusionment charm, but also the invisible-footfall charm which covered up any footprints if he was walking on dirt, sand, or snow. Although it couldn't stop ripples form forming if he stepped in a puddle, it was certainly useful in a lot of situations. Along with the silencing charm, it made sneaking around much more effective. Moody was also surprised that Hermione had learned how to cast glamours in a day, but she admitted that she hadn't mastered complex glamours, such as one that you would place over a person's face. He also went over several types of privacy wards, including silencing, Notice-Me-Not, muggle-repelling and wizard-repelling types. Having no time to actually learn all of them, Hermione said she would read as much as she could about them, as a few of them were in the Auror's Handbook that Moody had given them. They spent the rest of the morning trying to sneak up on Moody, who didn't even need his magical eye to spot them through their shoddy disillusionment.

The second week, they all began adding the disillusionment to their arsenal in duelling practice. Hermione, Neville, and Luna would hide in various places around the Room of Requirement, under disillusionment spells. Since Neville and Luna were already getting the hang of silent spellcasting with the most basic, first-year spells, they would silently cast simple jinxes at Harry, who now had to be far more aware of his surroundings. In exchange, Harry practiced his own disillusionment, attempting to take out all three of them while hiding as best he could. By the end of the week, he could cast a good disillusionment if he stood still while casting it, but it would fade quickly if he moved. Unfortunately, that was of little use for a duel, and he didn't want to wreck his invisibility cloak for such a small advantage. He wouldn't be able to make use of it for the upcoming Trial of Champions, but he knew it would be useful in the future, so all of them continued to practice it.

Moody was pleased with his progress by the second Saturday, and each one of them got some practice running into the forest and attempting to hide while the others searched. They were expected to try to take down the other three training partners by hitting them from behind, if they were hidden well enough. The others, of course, were practicing spotting them and staying on their toes. Hermione and Luna both managed to get everyone- Hermione because of her proficiency with spellwork, and Luna because of her creativity. She seemed to enjoy climbing trees, apparently. Harry managed to stun Hermione and Neville, but failed to look up. Neville only managed to stun Hermione before Harry leapt to her defense, and stunned Neville in exchange. Moody was watching everyone the whole time, and thanked Luna for reminding everyone that danger didn't always come from ground level.

The final days before the duel, the four of them started practicing formal duels. Each evening, Harry would fight a duel between Hermione, Luna, and Neville in succession, since he would have to face three powerful opponents in one day. Hermione made sure he followed the rules properly- the proper greetings, the proper way to concede defeat and accept victory, and so on. They also practiced as much as they could from the second duelling book they bought in the summer, trying to tie a few basic strings of spells together. To present Harry with more of a challenge, Hermione managed to get a pair of the pink, fuzzy earmuffs from Professor Sprout so Harry wouldn't be able to hear what they were casting. Harry, on the other hand, had to cast all his spells silently. This helped Neville and Luna especially, who were still practicing silent casting and could put more power into the spells when the said the incantations. Harry was still able to practice his Legilimency, and while Luna was as hard to read as ever, he still managed to glimpse what spell Neville intended just before he cast it. Hermione, however, could duel Harry on even ground. Harry had more power behind his spells, and he did have better reaction times, but Hermione had what seemed like an unlimited repertoire of spells to use. Her occlumency was near perfect, and Harry couldn't afford to spend any more of his attention in breaking it while he was dealing with all the spells she threw at him. Harry ended up spending a lot of time dodging her spells whenever he wasn't sure what it would do.

On Friday evening, they finished a bit earlier to make sure Harry would have enough rest for tomorrow. Neville and Luna waved goodbye as they left, leaving Harry and Hermione to relax on the soft and cushiony spectator seats in the Room of Requirement's duelling chamber. Hermione once again got him to lay down as she gave him a massage, "to work out the lactic acid, of course." Whatever the reason, Harry didn't need to be asked twice.

"Are you ready for tomorrow, Harry?"

"As ready as I'll ever be... which really doesn't say much, I think."

"Oh, come on. You've gone through this several times before. Even if you don't have the exact memories, you still have the instincts drilled into you, don't you?"

"I hope so. The problem is I can never seem to depend on them. They're more of a reflex- if it happens, it happens. At least if I do poorly, we can always go back and try again..." Harry laughed.

"Harry, we are NOT going back in time just so you can do better in a silly tournament!" Hermione gave him a hard slap on the back.

"Ow! Hermione, I was just joking!" Harry squirmed underneath her.

"I know. And this is a perfectly legitimate massage technique," she said as she slapped him again. "Stay still."

"You know, you should fight the duels in my place. You'd probably do better than I would. Would you like to take my job?"

"Do you mean your job as a Triwizard champion, or as the Boy-Who-Lived?" Hermione giggled.

"Both, if you're willing."

"Turn over," commanded Hermione, as she began to work on Harry's arms and chest. Looking straight at his eyes, she asked, "What makes you think I'd be any good at what you do?"

With his free arm, Harry caressed Hermione's cheek. "You mean other than the fact that I'd be nothing without you?"

"What? You can't possibly mean-" Harry put a finger on her lips.

"Let's see, shall we? I'm a pretty average student, but studying with you puts me above average. You figured out the puzzles to the Philosopher's Stone first year. You figured out the basilisk in second year. You had the time-turner in third year. You're teaching me everything I need to know this year."

"That's... but... you probably could have done it yourself if..." Hermione stammered. She stopped rubbing his arm, so Harry took both of her hands in his.

"That's not all, Hermione. That's barely scratching the surface. You don't just help me learn or give me knowledge. You give me something to look forward to every year."

"What? Harry, surely there's plenty of other things..."

"I do, Hermione. You're the reason I put up with all this stupid Boy-Who-Lived crap. I don't have a home or a family. The Dursleys don't count. When I finally managed to get away from them in first year, I loved Hogwarts, and _this _became my new home. When I became friends with you, you became... the closest thing to family I have. This past summer was the best one I ever had, Hermione. Obviously the magical world isn't all cupcakes and flowers. There's a crazy half-dead guy trying to kill me. I don't have many friends who like me for myself. I... well... Fleur kind of explained this to me, but I realized it's hard to figure out who likes me for who I am instead of who they think I am."

"You know you were doing really well with that speech until you brought Fleur up?" Hermione leaned on him, pressing her weight onto his shoulders with a devilish grin on her face.

"Um... I'm sorry? I love you?"

"I know that already, you silly." She leaned in and kissed him. "And I never realized how much I meant to you. You're really special to me, too. You were the first real friend I had. Even before Hogwarts, most of my so-called friends were... they were like Ron. They kept me around because I could help them with homework. You're the first friend I brought home to meet my parents, too. And my first kiss, and my first boyfriend. I hope you'll be my first... um... well, I mean I hope you'll be my only..." She blushed. "Well, let's just say I'll never want to lose you, Harry. I want to live my life with you."

Harry shook as he tried to suppress a giggle when Hermione struggled with her speech. He had no idea what she was really going to say, but he had a dozen ideas in his head. He settled with replying, "Thanks, Hermione. I think you've also given me the chance to, as well." Still stuck underneath her, Harry settled on kissing her hands.

"What do you mean by that?"

"The prophecy that we sent back? You know, _power he knows not_?"

"We still don't know who made that prophecy, or if it was really verified."

"If we didn't bother packing that info, then it probably wasn't important. I think being able to go back in time is a pretty fantastic power, and Voldemort doesn't know about it."

"You're right... we should keep this as secret as possible. The fewer who know, the fewer who can tell, after all..."

"And you gave me that power, Hermione. It always comes back to you. I'll... I'll always come back to you, Hermione."

"And I'll always be there for you, Harry."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- well, this was somewhat of a semi-filler chapter, but there were a few ideas I wanted to flesh out a little more and this was a good time to do it. I still haven't quite figured out all the duels yet, but they'll be coming next chapter.

- chapter revised. I made a few minor changes, and I had to agree with some reviewers that the ending needed changes. I hope it's a little less narm-y now.


	17. And Fighting is the Other Half

**Author's Notes:** The temporal beacon is a non-profit device.

- wow, I've crossed the 100k word mark. neat.

- i'm just hoping i can write all 7 trials (plus the final task) well enough so they don't get repetitive. never tried this before.

* * *

**Chapter 17: And Fighting is the Other Half**

Harry was shaken awake the next morning after an extremely comfortable night's rest. He wanted it to continue, but the voice wouldn't let him.

"Harry! Wake up, Harry, you're late!"

Harry recognized that voice. "Hermione? Why are you in my room?"

"I'm not in your room, Harry. We're still in the Room of Requirement! We fell asleep here, remember?"

Harry didn't remember, in fact. He did remember feeling very relaxed, though. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine o'clock! And you have to be at the Quidditch pitch by nine-thirty for your duels!"

Harry got the feeling he'd done this before... several times, in fact. "We don't have to pack our trunks, do we, Hermione?"

"What on earth are you... oh!" She laughed at the likeness to their time-travel situation. "No, but you _do _need to shower. You stink. Heck, I stink. Let's get out of this room. Come on!"

They both got up, but as they walked out the door, Harry stopped and turned back. He walked across it three times, and a new door appeared. "What room did you call for, Harry?"

"I just asked for some showers. I thought it'd be quicker."

Hermione was clearly disappointed. "You boys never think much of your hygiene, do you? What about a change of clothes? You were sweating all day yesterday and you're going to wear the same clothes again today?"

"What's wrong with that? I'm just going to work up a sweat again today." It wasn't _that_ bad, was it? He'd smelled much worse after Quidditch practice, and he didn't really work up a huge sweat yesterday, since he was going easy.

"No, Harry, and that's final. Get a proper shower and change of clothes in your dorm and meet me in the common room, alright? We'll have breakfast together." Harry frowned as the door to the Room of Requirement disappeared when they began to walk away. Such a brilliant idea, completely shot down by Hermione's cold, hard logic. He had a very quick shower, taking only five minutes before he was back down in the common room, and he brought his broom with him to save a few minutes of walking as well. Unfortunately, he still ended up waiting, as Hermione's idea of a quick shower was about fifteen minutes long. In the meantime, he reapplied the glamour on his back, taking several tries to get it right.

Hermione was still complaining that she didn't have time to properly dry her hair as she came down the stairs. Harry was caught off guard seeing Hermione without her bushy hair. She was still combing through all of it, and even though it was a little tangled and messy, it was... tamed, laying flat against her head and neck. That one little change turned his pretty girlfriend into a drop-dead sexy one. He didn't have time to gawk, however, as she pulled him out of his stupor and through the portrait-hole. "What's the broom for, Harry?"

"I thought it would give us a few extra minutes to eat breakfast. It takes more than ten minutes to walk down to the stadium, but I can fly us down there in one."

"Yes! That means we can still have a decent breakfast!" Hermione cheered. Down in the Great Hall, Hermione insisted he eat nothing greasy- shoving plenty of fruits, yogurt, hard-boiled eggs, and oatmeal at him. Harry stared longingly at the dishes of bacon and sausage links in front of him.

"Is this what you call a decent breakfast? I was hoping for something more... meaty." Harry frowned.

"You need to eat something healthy and easy to digest. All that oil will just give you a stomachache once you start jumping around in your first duel. I should have started you on this diet weeks ago! Here, have another egg. You'll need the protein."

Harry was finishing off another apple as they flew towards the Quidditch pitch. The stadium's colours had been changed- instead of representing the houses of Hogwarts, it was decorated with the crests and colours of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Harry realized how rarely he actually saw the full Hogwarts crest, as he was so used to competing against the other houses. Inside the pitch, there were two large, raised, oval platforms made of solid stone- he presumed these would be the duelling platforms. Each one was about twenty meters long, but less than ten wide at the middle. Additional seating had been added on to the field, and the closest spectators would be sitting about ten meters from the duelling platforms. The judges' table lay in between the two platforms, and a small walkway connected all of them to several tents at the end of the pitch. Harry landed by one of the tents, and was instantly waved inside, while Hermione was escorted away to one of the box seats up above. For now, the stadium lay empty, but Harry knew it would be packed when the doors were opened.

Inside, he once again found the other champions waiting for him with Ludo Bagman. "I'm glad everyone's finally here," Bagman said. "You've all familiarized yourselves with the EDL rules, correct? Then let's cut to the chase. There will only be one duel per matchup, no seconds, no rematches. Your score is based on your total number of wins, and any draws will result in less points for both champions. Do you all understand?"

When they all nodded, Bagman pulled out a small, circular device with four pieces of string sticking out. He spun it around, and said, "Everyone grab one piece of string. This will determine the initial starting order." When all four of them held one of the strings, the device cracked open, revealing how each one was connected. Harry was matched with Fleur, and Cedric with Krum. A piece of parchment Bagman was holding flared up for a second and writing appeared. "So, obviously, the first two matches will be Mr. Potter against Miss Delacour, and Mr. Diggory against Mr. Krum. The second round will be Mr. Potter against Mr. Diggory and Miss. Delacour against Mr. Krum. The final round will be Miss Delacour against Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter against Mr. Krum."

Harry looked over at Fleur, who glanced back at him but betrayed no emotion. He then took notice of Krum, who was looking back at him like an animal waiting patiently for its kill. _Deep breaths,_ he thought. _You won't face Krum until the end._ Krum appeared to be looking at _all_ the other champions with the same animalistic hunger, Harry noticed. _I wish I had that kind of confidence._

Cedric appeared to be handling himself well. He wasn't acting predatory the way Krum was, but he seemed to be fairly sure of himself. He was pacing around the room slowly, but held his head up and looked the other champions in the eyes.

Fleur was giving her "Ice Queen" look again, not letting anyone tell what she was thinking. Last time, she warmed up to the other champions and was willing to chat, but that was after the first Trial was over. She definitely didn't want to give anything away before the competition.

From inside the champion's tent, they could all hear the stadium fill up. Harry peeked out of the tent flaps and noticed it was filled to the brim- evidently, the Triwizard Tournament was living up to its name as quite the spectacle. Harry had never seen the Quidditch stadium completely full before- even during the final Quidditch game of the season when nearly everyone was finished with their exams, almost half the seats were empty. Part of the reason was because only two out of four houses were ever really interested in each game, but also partly because Hogwarts was seeing some of the lowest enrolment in centuries, after coming out of the war against Voldemort. Today, however, visitors from all over Britain, and some from other parts of Europe were here. He also noticed the section reserved for the press was packed- and remembering the trouble Rita Skeeter had caused him, he wanted to find out who she was.

"Hey, Fleur," he asked the French witch. "Do you remember talking to a reporter about the effect your allure had on me?"

Fleur's cold demeanor broke for a second. "Reporter? Non, I do not discuss such private matters to ze press." Her eyes narrowed into an icy stare at Harry. "You 'ave not been telling your friends that you could 'andle me, 'ave you? There is far more to me zen just my allure..."

"No, I haven't mentioned it at all... except to Hermione, of course. I read a quote in the paper the day after the tournament, that said you were talking about me... and I'm sure you were referring to my ability to resist the allure, and not... um... anything else." Cedric had caught on to what Harry was asking, and remembered the article in question. He was now extremely curious as to when the quote came about.

"I certainly do not make such matters public knowledge, 'Arry. You are saying one of your Eenglish reporters quoted me? I do not recall giving an interview or a statement for zem..."

"Then I think you should watch out for eavesdroppers. I'm pretty sure this reporter has rather unscrupulous methods of gathering her information... but I haven't figured out how, yet."

Fleur said nothing in return, only looking at him with some suspicion. The rest of the wait in the tent continued in silence, as they once again heard the opening formalities- anthems, greetings, introductions to various bigwigs and officials, and a few speeches by the bigwigs and officials. They seemed to drone on and on, but right at eleven o'clock, they called up Harry and Fleur to the first duelling arena.

_Go through the motions, stick to what you know,_ Harry told himself as he passed through the duelling wards. On stage, he bowed to the referee, then to Fleur. He kept his knees bent, ready to dart in any direction at a moment's notice. Drawing his wand from his holster, he held it in front of him, pointed at Fleur. Fleur, on the other hand, held a completely different stance. Standing straight up with her feet together and one hand behind her back, she extended her wand-hand towards Harry with the palm up, almost as if she were asking him for a dance.

"Duellers, are you ready?" Both of them nodded.

"Begin!"

Harry began on instinct with the Dueller's Hello to see how Fleur would react while concentrating on his legilimency to predict her moves. He spread the three spells so that the silencing hex would go for her head, the body-bind slightly to the left of her shoulder, and the conjured ropes to the right of her hip. She let off a single stunner before twisting and bending down slightly, without even moving her feet and followed up with a cutting charm. The two hexes jinxes flew past her without incident and the ropes were sliced before they reached her. Harry predicted Fleur's stunner, and sidestepped the spell easily and started running towards her, attempting to force her towards the edge of the platform with the Pebblecoat combo. It consisted of a reductor at the ground, followed by a levitation charm and a sticking charm, which should have forced the opponent into a detour lest they get themselves weighed down in debris. Fleur saw exactly what he was doing, however, and ignored the reductor, banishing the rocks immediately before Harry could levitate most of them. It cleared just enough of the rocks for her to nimbly step in between as she deflected the sticking charms. As Harry repeated the combo, she conjured a flock of birds that flew straight at him, blocking his vision and breaking eye contact. There were far too many to destroy individually, so he used the splitting-wind spell to push all of them to the side, only to see a huge fireball rushing at him. Without any time to dodge, he threw up a shield.

Harry quickly began to move closer to the middle of the arena, where there would be more area to move. The flames didn't seem to be draining his shields as fast as he thought they would, so he held it up until the flames ended. He looked around. He couldn't see her- she was probably under a disillusionment charm. Without his legilimency to help him, he had to be wary of a spell coming from any direction- and the area of the platform that would have been safest for him had suddenly turned into the most dangeorus. Eyes darting back and forth quickly, he threw a wide-arc tripping spell in one direction. Seeing nothing fall down, he began to move to that side only to see a series of red and yellow bolts from the corner of his eye. Ducking and rolling to dodge them, he threw another wide tripping spell and saw a shimmer as Fleur jumped over it. _There she is!_

As the adrenaline really kicked in, Harry began to fight wildly. Both of them exchanged direct spells, mostly disarming, stunning, and body-bind curses. Neither bothered to put up a shield, trying instead to take their opponent down directly. Harry was having a harder time aiming at Fleur, who would only reveal herself slightly when she moved. Frustrated, he switched to conjuring water, sending a jet in Fleur's general direction, creating a thin puddle. He could see her footsteps now, but she realized it just as quickly. Cancelling her disillusionment, she pressed on the attack, launching spells faster than before. Harry could now resume his legilimency, letting him dodge with even greater ease and retaliating with a few broad-area explosion spells, which forced Fleur to either block or jump out of the way. In an attempt to keep Harry pinned down, Fleur conjured another flock of birds. Harry countered with the same wind-splitter, only to see three snakes moving quickly towards him. A normal dueller would have to deal with them individually, because they were all deadlier than the birds... but Harry was a Parselmouth. He quickly ran towards the snakes, and hissed to them, _~Stop. Attack her!~_ Fleur obviously didn't anticipate his ability, and attempted to vanish the snakes she conjured, but Harry protected them as they advanced together. As soon as they were close to striking distance, Harry dropped his shield and began his attack. In between dodging Harry's spells, Fleur still managed to vanish one snake, blast another, and slice the last one just as it lunged at her. In that short time, Harry had closed the distance between them and she couldn't dodge his spells fast enough. He threw another blasting curse at her feet and two disarming charms. The blasting curse shattered the ground beneath her, throwing her off balance, and the second disarming charm hit her. As soon as the wand flew out of her hand, Harry summoned it.

The referee blew the whistle, signalling the end of the first duel. Harry was declared the winner, and he returned Fleur's wand to her. They bowed to each other, then to the referee, and stepped off the platform. Immediately, house-elves began popping in to repair the damage. As they walked to the medical tent for another checkup, they passed by Krum and Cedric, who were heading to the other platform for their duel.

"You are always 'iding some surprises for me, aren't you, 'Arry Potter?" Fleur had an annoyed, but amused, grin on her face.

"Well, I guess it used to be common knowledge at Hogwarts two years ago, but I don't think it was enough to make the papers," answered Harry. "Besides, talking to snakes isn't always something I like to advertise."

"Oh? Is there some stigma to your ability? Eet seems useful, even if it is... specialized?"

"What? You don't know about how being a Parselmouth is supposedly a sign of a dark wizard?" Harry couldn't believe it. Everyone had an opinion about it, whether it made him the next rising dark lord or if it shouldn't matter, but he hadn't met another magical who thought absolutely nothing of it.

"Did you perform a dark ritual to receive zis ability?" Fleur asked cautiously. Harry shook his head. "Well zen, eet is no more than a unique skill, is eet not?"

"Yes, I know it's nothing more than a curious talent, but others don't think so," answered Harry.

"Eet must be a silly British thing, zen. In France, people value unique and rare talents. Zat is why our 'eadmistress is a half-giant, and my father chose a Veela to be his wife," Fleur announced proudly.

Harry only nodded, completely flabbergasted by how different things could be between the two countries, separated only by a few dozen kilometres of water. The magical France seemed to have advanced almost in step with their muggle counterparts, whereas the British magicals seemed to do everything they could to resist it.

The medical checkup was quick, and Harry peeked out of the tent as quickly as he could to see the duel between Cedric and Krum. What he saw amazed him. Cedric's side of the arena seemed to be utterly destroyed- Cedric could barely get his footing as there were huge holes on the platform and lots of loose rock. Cedric wasn't letting that go to waste, however, as he continuously summoned all the loose rocks he could, using them to intercept the spells that Krum was throwing at him. Krum, however, didn't appear to be tiring, while Cedric was barely keeping up. In a last-ditch effort, Cedric summoned a smokescreen to hide himself, but Krum kept advancing and summoned a fire-whip, which he swing through the smoke at waist level. A loud _crack_ of the spell hitting a magical shield was heard, and Krum quickly threw a heavy bludgeoner in the direction where his whip stopped. Cedric came flying out of the smoke and fell off the platform, groaning in pain. His robes were lightly scorched, but he didn't appear to have any heavy injuries. He managed to get back on his feet, although he was a little off-balance.

The referee quickly declared Krum the winner, and Cedric was taken to the medical tent to be given potions for his burns and other minor injuries. He would be spending much of his break in the medical tent, probably only getting healed just in time for the next duel. Harry had plans for spending it with more pleasant company. He scanned the crowd, looking for Hermione, and saw her descending down the stairs, against the flow of the crowd. He ran to greet her at the edge of the field, and once again took off on Harry's broom to have lunch at the Great Hall instead of the concession stands around the stadium.

* * *

"You know, it's a shame you have to duel Krum last," Hermione remarked as they dug into their sandwiches.

"What? I consider myself lucky!" said Harry. "Saving the worst for last. You saw what happened to Cedric, didn't you?"

"Of course I did. I was taking notes, too. But the thing is, Krum's predictable. He fought exactly the way I expected him to in the first battle. I didn't learn anything about him."

"Oh? And what notes did you get about Cedric? I missed most of his fight."

"He's got variety. He's really good at transfiguration, too. He can perform transfigurations fast enough to mix it in along with his curses and charms." That was pretty important. Unlike other spells, transfiguration required imagery inside the mind with no actual incantation. It would be hard to get a clear image of what Cedric was intent on transfiguring with just a basic Legilimency scan. Even with non-verbal magic, most users still said the incantation to themselves inside their head, making it easy to get a read.

"So I should watch out for his transfigurations? What kinds of things does he usually make?"

"Nothing complicated. He turned some stone to solid metal to give them more weight when he banished them. He also changed the shape of the platform to help block a lot of Krum's spells. Krum did try to disable him in the beginning, but nothing would hold. I don't think you should try, either."

"Wait, Krum tried disabling jinxes? Like _Impedimentia_? When I looked he was just hurling power spells over and over."

"That was at the beginning. Cedric would cancel the jinxes about as quickly as he got hit with them. When Krum figured it out he just went all-out with his heavy-damage curses. I think he was trying to save energy at first, but in the end he just didn't want to waste time or end up losing."

"Any tips against him, then?" Harry didn't want to waste all his strength fighting the way Krum did. He was certain he wouldn't be able to keep it up, either. Cedric might actually beat him in a battle of pure endurance.

"I'd say just tire him out. Use your legilimency to dodge his attacks as much as possible. If he tries to rest, then go on the offensive, but don't let him stop moving. Krum must have tired him out quite a bit in the first duel already. That's all I can say... he's a well-rounded wizard."

"I was afraid of that. What did you think of my duel? What should I work on?"

"Quite frankly, Harry, you got lucky," Hermione said flatly. "You wasted a lot of energy with the shield charm against that illusion-"

"What? Illusion?"

"Yes, the huge flames. You didn't notice there wasn't any heat? You held your shield up for a full minute against nothing, really. It must have tired you out."

Harry shifted his eyes in embarrassment. He really didn't notice... Fleur had effectively made him waste his strength in the middle of battle. "Well... now that I think about it..."

"Harry, you need to come up with a better plan. You can't just go charging in there."

"Uh, Hermione, you might not have noticed, but charging ahead is pretty much what I do... a lot... I tend to react and go with my gut instincts. When I need a good plan for something, I generally turn to you." He gave her his best pleading, puppy-eyes look he could muster.

"Fine, Harry. Just go with what I said before. Try to force him to tire himself out. If you can, banish loose rocks away from him or else he'll use them against you. Don't use the Pebblecoat combo against him, because he'll probably make use of the debris better than you can. Use your legilimency, and don't let him break eye contact the way Fleur did. Don't waste time or energy with minor jinxes and hexes, just use a few, well-placed power curses to take him down."

"Thanks, Hermione. You're a life-saver." Harry chewed happily as he finished his lunch.

"Don't thank me yet, you actually have to win the duel."

* * *

Cedric appeared to be up and about, just fine after the short break. A few salves and a dose of pepper-up potion was all he needed. They were all waiting once again in the champion's tent, waiting to be called out. Cedric was resting in a chair, while Fleur and Krum were eyeing each other. Harry stood at the entrance of the tent, peeking outside occasionally. Most of the crowd had returned for the lunch break and the next set of duels would be starting once again.

Once Harry and Cedric were called up, they faced off on the newly-repaired duelling platform. After bowing, they both assumed the same, textbook-recommended duelling stance- knees slightly bent, wand towards the opponent, light on their feet. Harry kept his eyes locked on Cedric's. _He's opening with a wide tripping hex and an Incarcerous,_ Harry read. As soon as the referee signalled the start, Cedric opened with exactly that. Harry jumped over the tripping hex and threw the severing-razor charm, _Diffindo novaculis_. It cut straight through the conjured ropes and continued towards Cedric, who dodged out of the way. He followed through with another razor charm, cast horizontally and two bludgeoners. Cedric ducked low and blocked one of the bludgeoners. Seeing Harry was still advancing, he cast reductors at the ground in front of Harry's feet. Harry saw them coming, and remembering Hermione's advice, banished the rocks and pebbles away from Cedric as soon as possible.

Seeing what Harry was doing, Cedric then cast another set of reductors at the ground in front of his own feet. Harry ran forward as quickly as he could, but didn't get into banishing range in time. Cedric already levitated several chunks of stone and transfigured them into darts, shooting them at Harry. With a few wind-splitting spells, he pushed most of them off course, but still had to sidestep a few of them, ending up precariously close to the edge of the arena. Instead of banishing the rocks, he decided to switch to bombardment spells- even if it ended up creating more material for Cedric to use, at least the pieces would be flying and hopefully he would be spending more effort dodging them instead of transfiguring them. The first one sent pieces flying everywhere and knocked Cedric off balance, ending his next batch of transfigurations. Harry continued to throw the explosive spells as fast as he could while advancing towards the center of the arena, but the spells were very energy-intensive. Cedric, seeing what he was doing, began using counterspells to intercept them mid-air. _Wait a minute, _thought Harry. _I shouldn't be doing this... I'll tire out before he does!_

He was now close enough to use the simple banisher to sweep rocks away from Cedric, so he concentrated on that. Seeing Harry's offensive attack was ending, Cedric retaliated with a combination of stunners and bludgeoners. Harry dodged them easily while continuing to read Cedric, while continuing to banish the loose stones away. Cedric noticed what he was doing and launched a mist out of his wand. _Caligo Sequita? What does that spell do?_ thought Harry. He could read the incantation straight from Cedric's mind, but it was harder to understand the spell he hadn't studied before. The mist was quickly advancing towards him. Once again, he relied on his wind-splitter spell to push the mist off to the sides, but as soon as the spell passed through, the mist changed direction and enveloped him. He was now completely enveloped in fog, and lost his legilimency advantage. He cast another wind-splitter and saw a glimpse of Cedric, but only long enough to tell he was transfiguring something. He blindly threw another bombardment curse, following with an arcing tripping jinx and a wide severing-razor curse. He heard the sound of one of the spells impact a shield as he threw another wind-splitter. Cedric had moved! Turning around before the mist could collect again, he saw Cedric over at his right, launching a series of spells at him. Harry threw up a shield and dodged another, but he suddenly tripped on uneven ground. Keeping his shield up with all his strength, but as he tried to fend of Cedric's unending stream of spells, he knew Cedric was trying to end the duel here. He scrambled to get back up only to twist his foot on another unseen edge, and banged his elbow as he went down. He felt something pass over him and suddenly his breaths were failing. He began to hyperventilate, desperately trying to get some oxygen into his system, but it wasn't working. As his strength faded, his shield did as well, and he was struck with another curse before finally falling unconscious.

Harry woke up a minute later, lying on the platform by the referee. Cedric had dissipated the mist, and he saw what had happened- Cedric wasn't transfiguring more objects to banish at him while he was in the mist, he was transfiguring the rocks closer to Harry, making the ground around him jagged and brittle. There wasn't a single spot of flat ground to stand on. As he got up, the referee gestured to the both of them, and Harry acknowledged defeat. Cedric was declared the winner of his second duel. They bowed and walked off the platform as Fleur and Krum were making their way to theirs.

"What was that spell you used on me, Cedric? The mist thing?"

"It was the chasing mist. It's kind of hard to maintain, and I didn't expect it to work so well against you, actually," answered Cedric. "The nice thing about it is there's no direct counter for it other than a strong gust of wind... not many people use it because blinding spells are easier, but they're also easier to counter."

"Yeah, my wind-splitting spell seemed to do something, but it kept reforming..." Harry said disappointedly.

"_Ventascindo?_ That spell's only good against things that are flying towards you, not surrounding you," Cedric explained matter-of-factly.

"And what _would_ be a good spell to use against it?" asked Harry.

"Oh, that would be sharing my secrets, wouldn't it? We're still competitors, you know." Cedric laughed as he gave Harry a friendly slap on the back. "You put up a really good fight, to be honest. Where did you get the idea to keep banishing all the material off the stage?"

"Hermione watched your first duel. She said you had a knack for transfiguration. Could you tell me what the spell was that made it hard to breathe at the end?"

"Well..." Cedric thought about it for a moment. "I'll tell you what it is, but not how to cast it. It's the reverse-bubble-head charm. The normal bubble-head filters out poisons and other things you don't want to breathe, letting oxygen in. I just cast a reversed version on you."

"But how did it get past my shield?"

"I kind of created the bubble above your head and lowered it down on top of you, actually. I had no idea how long you would have been able to hold up that shield. You've got surprising endurance for a kid who's three years younger than me."

They continued to chat about their duel until they stepped into the medical tent. Harry quickly pointed out his scrapes to the mediwitch, hoping to get out of the tent as quickly as possible to see the match between Fleur and Krum. He knew the duel had started by the time he was receiving his first helping of Speedy Sports Salve, designed to quickly heal up professional athletes' minor scrapes. He couldn't hear anything inside the tent, but he was fairly sure of what was happening- Krum was going to end it quickly with heavy spells, knowing Fleur had already lost to Harry. A scant five minutes later, he was out of the tent. To his amazement, Fleur was holding her own against Krum.

She was exceptionally graceful, and she had a very good eye. Any spell she didn't need to dodge, she didn't move for, and for those that needed moving, she just barely got out of the way. It was almost like a dance for her, while Krum was moving like a soldier. He advanced, threw spells, held ground and defended his "territory" on the arena, and advanced some more. Once he thought he had Fleur pinned to one end of the platform, threw a strong bludgeoner to knock her off like he did with Cedric. Fleur, however, wasn't nearly as tired as Cedric had been, and deflected the spell. She then put up a most unusual counterattack.

Harry felt the allure hit him, even from the side of the Quidditch pitch. He could tell many of the males in the front rows of the stadium, and all the male judges, were under its effects. Cedric managed to control himself this time, being further away, and Harry blocked it out easily. Krum, however, being mere steps away from Fleur, suddenly stopped what he was doing. He seemed to be prepared for this possibility, though, and he recovered. The short delay was all Fleur needed. Casting an enormous fireball (which Harry guessed was another illusion), she disillusioned herself while Krum was distracted. He held his shield up, prepared for any more spells to come from the narrow end of the arena, and realized quickly he was pointing his shield at nothing. He turned just in time to block a spell from the invisible Fleur, but that revealed her position. He retaliated with a set of conjured glass spears, which Fleur dodged or blocked. Those that missed shattered on the ground, leaving sharp glass all around Fleur. Dropping her disillusionment again, she banished as much of the glass as she could back at Krum, and followed up by covering herself with smoke.

Three Fleurs emerged from the smoke, side-by-side and moving in parallel. Krum conjured a metal whip and swung wide, aiming to sweep through all three of them. It was blocked before it touched a single one of them. He switched to a stronger version of the water-conjuring spell, _Aguamenti Gagatsi_. The water shot out of his wand like a fire hose, and he swept the jet back and forth at the three of them. They all attempted to dodge, but the water passed straight through the one in the center. He continued the spell, hammering the shields of the two remaining Fleurs, but they suddenly bolted towards him. Having a harder time trying to hit both of them as they got closer, he took a chance and launched a strong reductor towards the one on the left, shattering the ground under her feet. She was completely unaffected by the blasted rocks, so Krum quickly threw a shield up against the one on his right. Fleur appeared to be in the middle of casting a spell when a flash of light came from a mere two meters from Krum's left, stunning him before he noticed. The final Fleur disappeared as the real Fleur reappeared from under another disillusionment.

To say Krum was disappointed was a severe understatement. He seemed to be furious at Fleur, only barely restraining himself to get through the end-of-duel formalities and off the platform. _At least he won't be completely focused on me now,_ thought Harry. _Or maybe that'll just make him even angrier when he duels me..._

* * *

"Harry, don't stress out about it," Hermione advised him. She handed him another glass of pumpkin juice. They chose not to leave the stadium this time, just resting on an unused corner of the Quidditch pitch and having a light snack during the second intermission.

"Easy for you to say. You don't have a crazy Bulgarian who's about to kill you."

"He's not trying to kill you! He might still be a bit upset. Just watch out for his stronger spells..."

"Just watch out? Did you see him break the wing-bones of a sixty-foot bird last month? I am _so _dead in one hour. Hermione, I'm leaving all my worldly possessions to you after this."

"Don't joke about this, Harry." Hermione scowled at him.

"I'm only half-joking. Well, even if I don't die, I'd like to write a proper will and name you as the primary beneficiary."

"And even on the _infinitesimally_ small chance that you _might _accidentally suffer a life-threatening injury that the nearby mediwitches can't stabilize _or_ portkey you to St. Mungo's in time, you'll just... go back to our little secret," she said, wary of eavesdroppers. They had cast a few privacy wards to keep any reporters from trying to interview them during their break, but you could never be too sure. "And if you do... I'll meet you there," she finished in a whisper.

"I'll always come back to you, that's for certain." Harry smiled as they sat together under their private, secluded, warmed patch of grass in the middle of the stadium. When they heard the call for the next round of duels and for the spectators to return to their seats, they dropped the privacy wards and parted ways.

Back in the tent, Krum was looking remarkably calm for someone who was just beaten, and who badly wanted to beat his next opponent. _The calm before the storm?_ thought Harry. Cedric was looking thoughtful, like he was going through a plan. Fleur had her stoic facade on again. Harry spent most of his time sitting, wondering how he was going to take on Krum. _I can't overpower him. My disillusionment isn't nearly as good as Fleur's. Might as well give it a shot, though, _Harry thought.

The whistle for the final round of duels was blown. Fleur and Cedric left the tent, and finally, Harry could watch another full duel. Fleur once again took her odd, dance-like stance against Cedric, while this time Cedric looked like he was ready to bolt forward. As soon as the duel began, he shot off a stream of water, covering the platform as he advanced forward. Fleur, on the other hand, threw some slicing curses at the platform, creating channels for the water to drain. She let most of the spells fly roughly in Cedric's direction, forcing him to dodge a few of them. Fleur still hadn't moved from her spot near the narrow end of the platform, and Cedric was close to the center, surrounded by the water he had conjured. Fleur quickly threw a freezing charm at the water, and a few spells aimed low. Cedric jumped to avoid the spells, but in mid-air, the water froze. As he landed, he nearly slipped, allowing Fleur enough time to throw some additional water of her own, making it even more slippery for Cedric. As he fell, he began to cast dozens of low-powered jinxes, even throwing in some stinging and tickling charms in there.

Fleur couldn't dodge the flurry of spells, and had to block most of them. Cedric continued to cast as he was getting back up and was nearly on his feet again when Fleur advanced. Dropping her shield to cast a strong fireball, she let herself get hit with two stinging hexes and a jelly-legs jinx, which she immediately dispelled. The fireball melted a clear path for her straight towards Cedric, who dove out of the way and rolled to the side. Fleur used this chance to try to end it with a stunner, but Cedric managed to fire off a freezing charm this time, causing Fleur to slip. Her stunner went wide and Cedric bought himself enough time to get to his feet. Just as he was about to disarm her, Fleur let her allure loose again. Cedric, having seen her use it against Krum, cast a Bubble-Head charm on himself, which seemed to lessen the effects enough for him to keep his mind. Fleur conjured a flock of birds as she disillusioned herself, but before she could move away, Cedric managed to get a sticking charm on her shoe, causing her to stumble on her next step, twisting her ankle. Cedric finished with an _Incarcerous_, binding her with ropes before he disarmed her.

_So, Cedric decided to take out her main strength right from the beginning. Can I do that against Krum?_ wondered Harry. _Krum's strength is... hi s strength. And his knowledge. Maybe I can try to get a confounding charm in..._ He felt that was his best bet. He and Krum walked to the duelling platform in silence. As he passed by Cedric, he received a pitying look from the Hogwarts champion. They both stepped onto the duelling platform. He heard the crowd roar for the final duel as the referee stepped up and greeted the two duellers. They bowed in return, then to each other.

_I can do this... just blind, him, delay him, confound him. Don't get hit,_ Harry reminded himself. As they stared each other down from across the arena, Harry attempted as best he could to read Krum with legilimency. He immediately found himself against a basic barrier. _Nuts! It figures he'd have at least basic occlumency._ Krum gave an angry snarl just before the referee's hand dropped. Both of the duellers exploded into action. Krum began right away with a bone-breaker followed by reductors. Harry didn't want to try blocking them, just in case they packed enough power to shatter his shield. After dodging out of the way of the initial flurry of spells, he went on the offensive. Running purely on instinct, he cast the Dueller's Hello again. He realized his mistake as the second spell left his wand. That combination was the most common combination in duelling- at the amateur leagues. Krum, having fought many duels in his years at Durmstrang, could tell exactly what Harry was casting from the wand movements alone. He let the silencing charm hit him, being perfectly comfortable with non-verbal casting. He took that extra second to charge up a powerful spell as he sidestepped the body-bind curse, and let loose a powerful fire-whip at the same time Harry finished casting _Incarcerous_.

The powerful flames of Krum's whip sliced straight through the conjured ropes and continued straight towards Harry. Harry just managed to dodge out of the way, but Krum simply flicked his wand and the whip snapped back, forcing Harry to jump again. Unfortunately, he couldn't jump high enough this time and the flames brushed across his ankle, causing him to stumble as he landed. With another flick, Krum's whip lashed down hard, straight at Harry, forcing him to put up a shield to block. That one hit nearly broke through Harry's shield, straining him as he fended off the concentrated cord of flames. As Krum pulled back for another strike, he dropped his shields as quickly as he could, throwing what was normally called a "distraction combo" at Krum. Similar to what Cedric did to Fleur when he was down, it consisted of easy-to-cast spells that used minimal wand movement to force the opponent to back down with quantity, instead of quality, of spells. Harry tried to force Krum to stop his attack, while throwing a confounding charm into the mix.

Unfortunately, Krum had seen this combination used against him many times in the past as well, and had an counter-combination for just the occasion. The March of the Golem was simple to cast but a magic-intensive combination that consisted of only two spells. _Protego Progresso_ was a variation of the standard shield, which sent the shield flying forward, buying a split-second for the caster to drop the shield and cast the next spell: _Malleossis_, the bone-bludgeoner, which required less wand movement than the standard bludgeoning hex but much more power. Alternating between the two continuously would have drained most wizards quickly, and if Harry could move to the side, it would mostly render the variant of the shield charm moot. Unfortuantely, with him on the ground and Krum being far above average in power, his simple chain of spells bounced off Krum's shield and he had to throw up his own shield to block the bone-bludgeoner. He then returned to the string of simple hexes while Krum threw up another shield. By the third bone-bludgeoner, Harry's shield broke and he was knocked off the platform. _Well, that was a disappointment,_ he thought as he hit the grass.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- yeah, maybe Harry's performance was kind of a let-down, but I have to say that he did _too_ well in the original GoF. He either came first, or _technically_ first in all the tasks in that book, which to me just makes the others seem incompetent, or Harry extremely lucky. Even if Barty!Moody was helping him along in the final task.

- I hope the duels weren't repetitive, either. I may have re-used a lot of spells a few times too many... i dunno. The duels themselves feel kind of short as well, but i'm thinking they'd only be as long as one round of boxing, given how much deadlier magic is than punches. Tell me what you think.

- chapter revised! I hope Harry seems a tad more skilled, with his training showing through a little more, but the results of the duels aren't changed.


	18. Scrambled Searches

**Author's Notes:** I wish I owned Harry Potter. Oh well.

- Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, everyone! I think I'll take a short break from writing and re-read what I've written so far. I've just been writing whatever comes to mind, and as such, I've almost forgotten some of the things I have written. I'll probably do some minor revisions and touch-ups before writing more.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Scrambled Searches**

"So how did I score?" Harry asked Hermione. He was still recovering from burns and a few broken bones. Even though he was hit with the same spells Cedric was, his injuries were somewhat more extensive, partly due to his smaller size and lighter weight. Stuck in the medical tent for another two hours, they finished the event without him on stage.

"Well, it was twenty-five points per win," explained Hermione. "But you didn't get much of a bonus because they said your spells, and power, were... lacking. Your final score was only thirty-two, out of a possible fifty."

"What? Hey, I'm smaller than them! And I have to say I did a pretty good job of predicting their spells and dodging them."

"Unfortunately, they couldn't exactly tell you were using legilimency, and I don't think you should let them know. Apparently they were looking for more magic out of you, instead of the muggle-ish ways of keeping yourself safe."

"It's a perfectly valid way to win a fight! Well, it's just a few stupid points anyways..." grumbled Harry. "How did the others do?"

"Cedric scored the highest, fifty points for two wins, and twenty out of twenty-five bonus points for his magic. That puts him one point ahead of you."

Harry nodded. At least that poor performance didn't put him completely out of the running just yet.

"Fleur got a total of forty-one points, and Krum got 69. He only got one less than Cedric because of he didn't have much variety in his spellwork, but his strength impressed the judges."

That put Harry and Cedric almost tied for last, with Krum a good distance ahead and Fleur was still in a commanding lead. It would really depend on the next trial.

"So did Bagman explain what was coming up next?" asked Hermione, eager to delve into more research.

"Yes... there's actually two events coming up for me..."

"What? Two trials? How's that possible? I thought there was only supposed to be one per month! Unless the one in February is going to be notoriously difficult or something and they wanted to give you even more time to prepare..."

"Uh, no, no... the next trial is the Trial of Water. I'll get on that in a bit. There's just another event before that... um... you'll hear about it in class on Monday, I think," Harry answered nervously. He didn't want to tell Hermione that there would be a fancy ball in three weeks, and the fact that he would have to open up with the leading dance with her... and he didn't know how to dance. He wasn't sure if Hermione knew how to dance, for that matter.

"What? Why don't you want to tell me?" asked Hermione.

"It's... um... Hermione, have you ever been on stage? I mean, in the spotlight in front of a crowd?" Harry tried to ask without giving anything away.

"What, are you getting stage fright _after_ you fought three duels in the middle of a stadium?" Hermione giggled. "Harry, you can be so weird sometimes. Three hours ago you got it in your head that Krum was trying to kill you, but you go face him anyways. Now, when there's nothing to fear, you're worried?"

"That's not why I'm asking! I just want to know..."

"Fine... umm... the last time I was on stage was when I was little. My parents put me in ballet."

"Oh... so you've danced before?" Harry hoped the innocuous segue wouldn't give it away.

"Hardly," Hermione pouted. "I pretty much just stood on stage. My parents took me out of ballet class once they realized how much I hated it."

"Why were you just standing there? I thought you'd be... well, doing some dancing in ballet..."

"I couldn't do anything on stage. I was... the Christmas tree."

"Huh? A tree?"

Hermione hung her head down. "Why are you making me tell you this? It's so embarrassing! It was a Christmas story we were doing in ballet. I was so frozen on stage that the instructor ended up making me dress up as the Christmas tree so I barely had to do anything." She then added in a barely audible whisper, "And I still managed to screw it up." She almost broke down in tears, but calmed herself by changing the subject. "Forget about that stuff. It was before I really discovered my love of books, anyways. What's this extra event? You still haven't told me."

Harry saw how agonizing the memory was for Hermione. Evidently she didn't like to dance... and especially not on stage. Things were different this time, obviously. It was going to be a ballroom dance, not ballet. And she'd be dancing with her boyfriend. Was that enough to completely change her opinion? Well... to be sure, he would have to make things extra special for her. Tomorrow was Sunday, another Hogsmeade weekend... and Monday would be the New Year's Ball announcement to the rest of the students.

"Um... actually, you'll find out about it on Monday. Professor McGonagall should be announcing it to everyone in a House meeting."

"Why won't you just tell me now?" Hermione was getting annoyed.

"Um... secret?" Harry knew that if he told her now, he'd end up asking her to be his date immediately. It wasn't that he didn't want to go with her, but he wanted to do it in a better position- preferably not while lying on a cot inside a tent with his breath reeking of medical potions like Skele-Gro. "Also, I kind of have to go into Hogsmeade to run some errands by myself tomorrow..." Harry said. _I should be able to order a few flowers, at least_, he thought.

"What? I was hoping we would be able to get started on the Trial of Water right away, Harry! Let's face it, you don't even know how to swim!"

"I know... I'll make it up to you, I promise," said Harry. "Wait, I _don't_ know how to swim! What am I going to do?"

"Well, I was going to help teach you," said Hermione. "But if you don't want to..."

Harry cringed. "I'll really, _really, __**really**_ make up for it. Really." _I might have to throw in a new dress while I'm at it... in for a Knut, in for a Galleon..._

_

* * *

_

Harry got up early the next morning, eager to make sure that Hermione would be delightfully surprised on Monday. _I wonder why I'm putting so much effort into this_, he thought. _It's not even the dance. I'm just asking her to go to the dance. But then again, this is one really important dance... and I can't imagine going with anyone else. I can't give her any reason to possibly say no,_ he justified to himself. After getting a light breakfast, he began the long walk to Hogsmeade, alone. Along the path, he noticed a group of Beauxbatons students already on their way. As he passed, a familiar voice called out to him.

"Oh, 'Arry! Are you 'aving breakfast in ze village as well?" Fleur asked. The rest of her classmates turned to look at who she was talking to. Fleur waved him over. "You 'ave been to zis village many times before, yes? We would like to sample ze local cuisine. Do you 'ave a favourite restaurant?"

"Three Broomsticks," Harry answered immediately. There _were_ only two restaurants, and one tea shop. He certainly wasn't going to lead these students into the Hog's Head. "Hogsmeade isn't a very big village, I have to warn you. There isn't much selection." Seeing the questioning looks on the faces of some of the students, he quickly added, "But I'm not saying it's _bad._ Far from it. I love coming out to Hogsmeade and eating there when I can, but you'll find that _everyone_ goes to the Three Broomsticks as well."

"Zen we should 'urry, if it gets as crowded as you say, non?" Fleur smiled and translated for the few who couldn't follow the conversation. They all seemed to agree on Harry's suggestion, and sped up to a brisk walk.

Harry led the way through the village. When a few of the Beauxbatons girls seemed to express some curiosity as they passed Madame Puddifoot's, he quickly urged them onwards. He didn't want to get caught inside that shop, especially not with Fleur and several other French witches. Along the way, he also pointed out a few of the other shops to them. Most of them seemed to know a few of the basics already, like the post office and Scrivenshaft's, where many had already visited for school supplies and larger post deliveries. Unsurprisingly, many of the girls also knew where the hairdressers were.

Madame Rosmerta was pleasantly surprised by the crowd of students that arrived for breakfast, with Harry holding the door for them, no less. Business had picked up a little with the Triwizard Tournament's second event. Many tourists were staying in Hogsmeade for the entire weekend instead of just visiting for the day, but fewer students came to Hogsmeade as well, preferring to stay at Hogwarts to share the excitement. Harry decided to have a second, light breakfast, while he made some recommendations for the others. It was rather difficult, given how much of the breakfast menu involved greasy foods, but everyone seemed to have a good time. When they were all finished, Fleur asked Harry, "What brings you to ze village all by yourself, 'Arry? I usually see you with your girlfriend..."

"Oh, well, you know the New Year's Ball..." Harry began.

"You are taking her, non?"

"Of course... I haven't asked her yet, though. I want to surprise her. I don't think she likes dancing, so I'll have to make the proposition... more attractive for her." He suddenly perked up. "Could you help me out, actually? What _is_ a good way to ask a girl to a dance?"

"Well, if you will only be using me as an example..." Fleur giggled teasingly. "Begin with flowers. Always."

"I didn't think she liked flowers that much... I mean, she's really into books..." said Harry, doubtfully. _And teddy bears_, he added privately.

"'Arry, do not think of flowers as a gift. It is... courtesy," Fleur explained. The other girls at the table nodded. "It is much like... 'olding ze door open. Every special occasion. Begin wiz flowers."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"Now, does she enjoy chocolate?" Fleur asked.

"She does enjoy it a bit, but she's never been into sweets all that much," Harry explained. "Her parents are dentists." Seeing the confusion on their faces, he said, "Well, she likes to watch her health."

"Ah, zen just get chocolat noir instead." Fleur was practically ignoring him by now, imagining the ideal man that she had yet to find.

"All this just to ask her to go to the ball with me?" Harry was really worried that he'd been doing things completely wrong up until now.

"Well, she is already your girlfriend, non?" Fleur asked. "You would not need this advice from me unless you considered it a very special occasion, non? Is her birthday in December also?"

Harry shook his head. "No, that was back in September."

"And you did not get her flowers zen?" Fleur's eyes widened in shock and the other girls began to chatter rapidly in French.

"Uh... no?"

"Were you two already dating at ze time?"

"Yes..." Harry could sense he was about to get reprimanded for breaking every rule in some kind of secret girls' rulebook.

"'Arry... what have you done on dates wiz your girlfriend?" Fleur let out in exasperation. Harry explained their trips to Hogsmeade, a few of the broom rides which he felt were at least somewhat romantic, and even let slip that they sometimes just spent an entire day together in the library. Obviously, he left out the specific dates, given how some of them overlapped, but as he went on Fleur seemed to be shaking her head in pity... probably for Hermione. When he finished, she asked, "...And zis 'Ermione, she 'as no intention of seeking out someone else?"

"What? No... she'd never. We love each other dearly."

"Well, I must say zat Eenglish girls are far more patient zen we would be."

"I... really need to make it up to her, don't I? Can you help?" Harry pleaded, almost convinced that Hermione would dump him by tomorrow if he didn't buy her a field of flowers and an entire chocolate factory. Fleur and the other Beauxbatons girls felt that helping Harry with his relationship would be a good way to see the town, so they had him take them around town while they advised him what he needed to buy.

* * *

Four hours later, with a few trips to Honeyduke's, Gladrag's, Sunbloom's, and various other shops, Harry was walking back to Hogwarts with his arms full. Clearly, the Beauxbatons girls had an entertaining day with him. He did thank them for their help by buying a few extra sweets at Honeyduke's.

"Thank you for ze entertaining day, 'Arry. I 'ope things go well for you and your girlfriend."

"Thanks, Fleur. If you don't mind me asking, do you know who you're going to the ball with?"

"Non, zere is nobody for certain for me," Fleur sighed. "But I do 'ave my eye on Cedric... 'e is very impressive."

"Really? But not Krum?"

"Definitely not!" Fleur laughed. "Viktor is... a warrior. Too simple. 'e bites down on 'is target and does not let go. Cedric... knows subtlety, etiquette, and 'umor."

Harry nodded. Krum did seem to get all his joy from competition. In fact, the only time he saw him smile, outside of the tournament, was when he was laughing at Draco's incompetence. He didn't seem like the type to settle down for a quiet life with a girl, especially one that managed to beat him in a duel. He had far too much pride for that. "Aren't there any guys from Beauxbatons that interest you?"

"Oh, I am tired of them fawning over me for ze past six years. I am thinking a fresh start with new faces may help."

As they made their way into the castle, Harry was intent on finding Hermione immediately. Where would she be? His first thought was the library, but it turned out to be completely empty except for Madame Pince. He then went up to the Room of Requirement to see if she was there, but the wall didn't have a door on it. He finally made his way to Gryffindor Tower, but she wasn't in the common room, at least. Going up to his bed to drop the gifts off, he pulled the Marauder's Map out of his trunk and activated it. He carefully scanned the map for ten minutes looking for Hermione's name, but couldn't see it.

"Hey, Harry. You've got a new admirer or something?" Harry looked up to see that Neville had just walked in.

"What? Oh, no, these are for Hermione. Have you seen her?"

"Not for a few hours. Last I saw her she was still in the library. Looking things up for you and the Trial of Water."

"She was?" Harry felt his heart drop when he realized how much he had taken Hermione's commitment to him for granted. _Wait, water?_ he thought to himself. He knew the next task was supposed to take place near Hogwarts- she didn't jump in there just to help him research, did she? It would explain why she wasn't on the map. "Uh, I'll be back soon, Nev. Make sure nobody touches my... um, Hermione's stuff," he said as he grabbed his broom.

"Wait, I think she was-" Neville tried to say, but Harry was already flying out the window.

The Black Lake was huge, forming the entire southern border of the Hogwarts grounds and Forbidden Forest. If she was studying something in the Black Lake, she'd probably left her bags somewhere along the shores. Harry began his search at the docks where the first-years' boats lay. He flew until he reached the edge of the forest and then turned back. On the other side of the docks was the Durmstrang ship. As he passed by, he saw Krum climbing up the side of the ship on a rope ladder. _Was he swimming in the lake? In this cold weather? If it dropped another degree it might as well freeze over!_

He gave the ship a wide berth, just in case the Durmstrang students were feeling territorial or if they decided to take pot shots with the cannons on the side of the ship. _I wonder if they're even real,_ thought Harry. _Or maybe they're magical cannons? If they are, I wonder if they shoot out overpowered spells or enchanted cannonballs? _ He let his imagination run as he skimmed over the other side of the shoreline, which again turned out to be empty. Frustrated, he headed back to the starting point of his search. He'd just wasted nearly an hour searching for Hermione and was no closer to finding her. He flew back to his room, scanning the grounds like he would search for the snitch, but looking for his brown-haired beauty instead. Almost nobody wanted to stay outside longer than they had to in the cold December air, and even that final sweep was fruitless.

He was pleasantly surprised, then, to find Hermione sitting on his bed, sniffing the flowers and twirling the small gift he had bought her in her hands, unopened. The chocolates were also untouched. She was obviously waiting for him to come back before she opened anything. _So much for the surprise,_ Harry thought. He landed on the windowsill, as somebody had obviously felt it was a little too cold to leave a window open in this season. He tapped on the window, getting Hermione's attention.

"Harry! I didn't expect you to come in this way..." she said as she opened the window for him. She giggled. "The way you tapped on that window, I was expecting Hedwig or Kerris."

"Well, it looks like you already received my delivery, Hermione," he said as he stepped down.

"So all of this stuff is for me, then? What's going on? You do know that Valentine's day is two months away, not two days..."

_Right, Valentine's! If I'm doing this much to take her to the ball, will I have to top that for Valentine's day?_ Harry realized with horror. "Um... I wanted this to be a surprise, but..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Hermione quickly rearranged everything the way she found it. "You can still surprise me, you know. I have no idea what all this is about." She gleefully hopped back on the bed, awaiting his answer.

"Well, you know how I told you yesterday that there were going to be another event, right?"

"Yes, but all this seems a little _personal_, doesn't it? I thought you said this would be an event for the Triwizard Tournament."

"It is! I was going to wait till tomorrow when everybody else would know, but I might as well ask now. Hermione, there's going to be a fancy ball on New Year's Eve. W-would you... do me the honor o-of being my date?"

"Harry! You did all this just to ask me out on a date? What's gotten into you? Of course I'd love to go to the ball with you! Why are you so nervous about it?"

"Wait, I haven't explained all of it yet. We'll be the opening act. The four champions will be the first on the dance floor, and everyone will be watching us..."

Hermione barely hesitated at all when she answered, "That doesn't matter, I'll be up there with you! I mean, I don't know how to dance, but it should still be a lot of fun!"

"Wait, you don't know how to dance? You told me you were in ballet when you were younger..."

"Harry, there's a world of difference between ballet and the waltz," Hermione told him. "And I already told you, I hated it. The only time I was on stage, I played a tree."

"But you don't mind being in the spotlight dancing with me?" Harry was a little relieved, but confused.

"Of course not! All the other girls in the ballet class made fun of me... but this time, I'll be dancing with you!" She gave him a wide smile.

"But... I don't know how to dance, either. I might end up making you look like a fool."

"Not before you make yourself look like a fool, and at least then we'll share the experience," Hermione laughed. "Is this why you bought all this? Just because you were afraid I would say no? Harry, were you trying to _bribe_ me?" She gave him a disapproving look.

"I'm sorry! I mean, no! That's not the only reason. Well, when Fleur explained it, it made sense..."

"What is it with that girl?" Hermione put on her annoyed face again. "If I didn't know better, I'd think she was trying to snatch you away from me."

"She's... actually interested in Cedric. She told me in Hogsmeade. Anyways, when she heard about what a horrible boyfriend I've been, she and her friends suggested that I make it up to you with this date."

"How did she get that idea? You're far from horrible, Harry," she reassured him.

"Well, maybe not horrible, but unsatisfactory. At least, to her standards. So I followed her advice... and I wanted to make this date absolutely perfect for you, Hermione. You have to admit that we haven't done much together other than study and train together... and a Hogsmeade weekend or two."

"You didn't have to do all this for me!" She laughed as she hugged him. "Although, I wouldn't mind more of it... so what's the gift?"

"Open it." Harry handed the box to her. Hermione carefully took off the wrapping, making sure she wouldn't tear any of it. Lifting the lid off the small box revealed a pair of silver earrings with a hefty sapphire that dangled from a thin chain. "I was hoping you'd wear these for the ball."

"These look fabulous, Harry!" She held one delicately in her hands, still afraid to put it on. "You didn't have to do this for me!"

"Maybe not, but I wanted to. I know how much you were teased about your looks before. They might not be so brash about it any more now that everyone knows you're dating the Boy-Who-Lived..."

"What they say doesn't matter to me, Harry, as long as you still love me."

"I know, but this time, I want you on stage with me, and I want to let everyone see how beautiful you are to me. Everything they've been saying behind your back, Hermione, I want to prove them wrong." Harry was going right into his loving, protective mode as he embraced Hermione. She let him hold her, keeping quiet as he got to play the knight in shining armour for her. A thought struck her that she couldn't keep to herself.

"You know, we'd still end up looking like fools if neither of us can dance."

"Do you know anyone who can teach us? And in less than three weeks! This is going to be horrible!"

"Don't sweat it, Harry. You've learned harder things in less time. We can always stick to something basic. We can probably ask Professor McGonagall."

"Let's do that tomorrow," Harry said as he waved his hand lazily. They lay together on the bed, munching on Honeyduke's finest dark chocolate bar, until the door swung open. Neville came walking in. Seeing both of them, he sighed in relief.

"There you are, Harry! Hermione walked into the tower almost as soon as you left, and I had no idea when you would be back. I thought it would be best if she just waited for you here."

"Thanks Nev, I think it did turn out to be the best." Harry smiled at him. "Want some chocolate?"

"Thanks," Neville said as he took a piece. "I'm just glad you two found each other. Where did you go, Harry?"

"Oh, when you mentioned that Hermione was doing research or something for the Trial of Water, I thought she might have gone down to the Black Lake... I flew around there, but didn't see her." Turning to Hermione, he asked, "Where _did_ you go, anyways?"

"Room of Requirement. You didn't think I'd be crazy enough to jump in the lake when it's this cold out, did you?" Seeing Harry dart his eyes away, she laughed. "You did! Oh, Harry, there's far better ways to learn how to swim, you know!"

"Wait, you were in the Room? But why didn't I see a door? And what kind of room did you make?"

"A swimming pool, obviously. Heated water, at the perfect temperature, of course. I... uh... kept the door hidden and locked because I was kind of afraid that someone would find me, actually."

"Why?"

"Uh..." Hermione glanced nervously at Neville. "I was wearing a bikini."

Harry's eyes bulged out as he imagined Hermione wearing the skimpy swimwear. Neville just looked confused. "What's a bikini?"

"It's a muggle thing. I didn't want anyone walking in on me because, well, you know how _old-fashioned_ wizarding society is..." Harry was still silent, his imagination running wild. Hermione punched him in the arm. "Harry, if you stop daydreaming for a second I'll actually bring you there with me. You need to get started on swimming lessons."

Harry's mouth hung agape until he finally managed to say, "But I don't have a swimsuit..."

Hermione leaned in and whispered, "Neither did I. I wasn't expecting to go swimming at school, you know, so I just transfigured my bra and knickers."

Harry's lips curved into a dumb smile as his eyes glazed over. "Uh... how... when... when?" he managed to ask.

"Well, swimming takes quite a bit of effort to learn, so I think we'll have to practice every day for the next month..."

Harry let out a little gurgle of happiness as he stared at the ceiling. Neville looked curiously at him. "You know, if he has to swim for the next trial, why doesn't he try some gillyweed?"

Hermione was surprised that Neville had mentioned something she'd never heard of before... not in this lifetime, at least. "What does gillyweed do?"

"Oh, it kind of turns you into a merperson temporarily. Well, you don't get the fish tail, but you do grow gills and fins on your feet, and you'll be much more comfortable with the water temperature and stuff. It's only found in the Middle East, though, so it might be hard to get," Neville explained.

"Thanks, Neville! That might be just what he needs! Although, I would still like to give him swimming lessons, just in case the effects of the gillyweed don't last long enough." That was more of an excuse, however, as she fully intended to taunt and tantalize Harry with her newfound power.

"I'll see if I can order some with the same company that I used for the eyesight potion," Harry said as he finally recovered.

"Welcome back, Harry," Neville chuckled. "Seriously, what made you drool like that? Does it have something to do with that bikini thing Hermione mentioned?"

Hermione gave him a wicked smile, and said, "You know what, Neville? Meet us in the Room of Requirement after class, just like we did with Harry's duelling training. Bring Luna, of course."

* * *

The next morning, when Harry woke up he already couldn't wait for classes to finish. Down in the Great Hall, he noticed something odd- people weren't looking at him with as much hostility as before. Some of the Ravenclaws, who had been mostly cold and indifferent. The Hufflepuffs were the biggest change, by far. For the past few weeks before the duels, they were still unfriendly, but restrained, thanks to Cedric. This morning a few of them seemed apologetic. As he made his way to the Gryffindor table, he overheard a few conversations.

"...best Defense professor in five years, and friendlier than Moody..."

"...says that Dumbledore would let him become one? He's fought two wars!"

"What a load of bollocks. He _saved_ that girl, didn't he?"

He sat down, wondering what was going on. Fred walked up to him, saying, "Don't worry, Harry. We've always known that Skeeter was a bit daft."

"Yeah, if you really were a dark lord you'd have recruited us to be your lieutenants of chaos!" added George.

"By the way, are you hiring?"

"It's never too early to start recruitment, you know."

"What's going on, guys?" Harry was still confused. Hermione arrived just then, as the twins made room for her to sit down beside Harry.

"Ah, the Dark Lady has arrived!"

Hermione shook her head in amusement as she sat. "I forgot to tell you about it yesterday in all the excitement," she said. "Rita's written another article."

"Really? And, by the twins' reaction, I'm supposed to be some dark lord or something? But that's making everyone else friendlier to me?"

"Well, she did say a few outlandish things, as usual... but most of the students know it's wrong. I can't say the same about their parents, or the general public, though..."

"Well, are you going to show it to me, or not?" Harry was getting impatient. Hermione handed him a copy of yesterday's paper.

**Dark Lord Slayer or Competitor?**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Everybody knows the story of the Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of the Dark Lord. Has anyone ever figured out how he managed to do it, though? The official story is that he survived a killing curse, which reflected back on the Dark Lord. Remarkable, you may say, since no human has ever survived, and even more so as a baby. But wait! What else can survive this darkest of dark curses? Even a unicorn, one of the purest of light creatures will fall to the glowing green light. However, the darkest of creatures- Dementors- can survive it. Did we defeat fire with fire, a dark lord with another dark lord?_

_Why did You-Know-Who choose to personally attack a mere baby, when he had scores of Death Eaters to do it for him? Harry Potter was no mere baby, as we all know now in hindsight. He did, however, bare his fangs yesterday in the Trial of Champions. What most people thought was a good Confundus charm to turn the conjured snakes onto his competitor, this clever reporter discovered was a far more sinister ability: Harry Potter is a Parselmouth!_

"_Yeah, Harry Potter's a Parselmouth. We found out about two years ago," explains Mr. Finch-Fletchley, who had a close, personal encounter with a snake that Harry Potter commanded in his second year. Even a young girl of the Weasley clan was kidnapped that year, but she refused to comment about her experience. When the name Harry Potter was mentioned, she ran away in fear. Why was she so afraid to answer a few questions? It could very well be that she has nowhere else to turn to. The highest authority in Hogwarts is, of course, Albus Dumbledore- but can we trust him to rein in Harry Potter?_

"_Dumbledore's daft, I tell you. He hired a werewolf last year to teach us! I was so afraid I would be bitten every time I sat in that class," Miss Parkinson had to say about her experience. Mr. Lupin, as some of you may remember, was sacked at the end of last year after his dark nature was publicly revealed._

"_I was almost killed by this evil creature in our Magical Creatures class, and Dumbledore just lets it fly away! My father tried to make sure justice was done, but the old goat kept getting in his way at every turn," the young Mr. Malfoy told us. "He's rarely on our side. He certainly likes Potter, though." As the Triwizard Tournament continues, Dumbledore appears to continue giving Mr. Potter free reign in the school, ignoring his blatant wrongdoing or even disqualifying him from the tournament. Without any proper discipline, we could very well be looking at another dark wizard within the decade._

"You have got to be kidding me," Harry said in dismay.

"Nope, that was written in the Sunday _Prophet_ for everyone to see," Hermione told him.

"Don't worry, Harry, almost everyone else sees it's just trying to be sensational," Neville reassured him. "Nobody here really believes it- I mean, Lupin was the best Defense teacher we had! Better than Lockhart, for sure."

"Oh, if you thought Lockhart was bad, you should have seen Professor Dimplewit. At least Lockhart knew which end of his wand the spells came out of, even if he couldn't actually cast any," Alicia commented from across the table.

"And everyone's already heard the story of how Malfoy got scratched by a Hippogriff and went crying to his daddy," snapped Ginny, angrily. "I can't believe she'd still put me in the article when I tried to ignore her!"

"Still, I think we need to keep an eye out for this woman. She gets inside with the press pass, doesn't she? We'll have to watch out for her in the next event," Harry said with his teeth clenched. "I swear, I'm going to drown her in ink if I ever meet her."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Sorry, no Hermione-Luna bikini scene this time, guys.

- Also, no H/Hr/F multiship, despite their friendship. I won't be going there. Probably.


	19. You Just Have to Ask

**Author's Notes:** Harry Potter will not make me a billionaire.

- Yay, done the revisions to the earlier chapters. I had to re-read my own story, and I'd forgotten some of the things I'd written, lol. I think i should probably pause for revision ever 50k words or so, at least.

- Happy New Year, everyone! 2011 is looking a little busier for me than 2010, but I hope to keep writing as much as possible.

* * *

**Chapter 19: You Just Have to Ask**

Nearly a hundred Gryffindors waited inside their common room, wondering what the house meeting was about. Everyone in Hogwarts had been told to return directly to their dorms after classes. Few of them noticed their own head of house standing before them until Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

"As you all know, the Triwizard Tournament has been a traditional tournament that showcases the greatest strengths a school has to offer. The champions and the trials, however, are only a part of the festivities. The next event will allow all students fourth-year and above to participate."

Excited faces grew on the Gryffindors' faces. This was the chance for the house of the bold and brave to shine! The boys could feel the competitive spirits rise inside them again, like when they would cheer for the house Quidditch team. The entire first term had gone by and there had been no Quidditch. The Tournament was supposed to be exciting, but most of the students couldn't buy themselves seats. Harry always gave his complementary ticket to Hermione. There was nothing exciting about reading the results in the next day's newspaper. They were ready to release their bottled-up cheers, shouts, and cries of victory when they faced their opponents-

"... by dancing. In just under three weeks' time, there will be a New Year's Ball, held on New Year's Eve and going past midnight. Your parents have already been informed by owl post. The Hogwarts Express will return from the winter break three days early this season, on December 30th. I suggest you use the time during the break to purchase suitable clothing. This will be a formal dinner and dance. Dress robes for all the men, and suitable dresses for the ladies."

The girls squealed. The boys gaped. A few of the older Gryffindor couples looked at each other, thankful that they already knew they had dates. A third-year girl, Janice Edgeworth, raised her hand. "Professor, did you say only fourth years and up could go?"

Professor McGonagall answered, "All students in fourth year and above are _invited_ to the ball, along with their dance partners. Should those in third year and below wish to attend, you will need to find yourself an escort who is in fourth year and above."

The younger girls' eyes lit up with hope, while the younger boys looked bored with indifference. A few of the older boys understood the implications- if they didn't ask the girl they wanted now, they could end up going with some 13-year-old they didn't even know. For two particular boys, being completely shameless helped them get over their nerves very quickly.

"Katie?" Fred turned to his Quidditch teammate.

"Angelina?" George did likewise.

"Would you do me the honour of going to the dance with my brother George?"

"And would you do _me_ the honour of being Fred's date, Miss Johnson?" Both of the twins grinned wildly.

Katie stood there looking back and forth between the two twins before bursting into laughter, while Angelina faced Fred and punched him in the arm. "Ask me properly, you dolt!"

Fred got down onto his knees and took Angelina's hand. He looked straight into her eyes and cleared his throat. "Angelina... will you... wait a sec, this is missing something." He pulled out a small packet from his pocket and threw it at the ground. A shiny pink powder began to fill the room, making it difficult to see anyone more than an arm's length away. The powder sparkled ten times as much when someone moved through it and also created sweet-smelling bubbles in their wake. Fred made a deliberately embellished sweep of his arm when he took up Angelina's hand again, surrounding himself in sparkly glitter and scented bubbles. "Angelina..." he began, with a voice that was much deeper than normal, and for some reason, had an echo. "Will you be my date for the ball?"

Angelina, clearly unimpressed but rather amused, blew the powder away with a quick spell. "I told you to ask me properly!" She turned and walked towards the girls' stairs, but paused at the first step. "You can try again tomorrow morning."

Katie was on the ground, clutching her sides in laughter. George looked around the room, holding up several more of the packets that Fred had used. "Weasley Wizarding Wheezes' Instant Romance Powder! Get yours today! It gives you instant, temporary, privacy, a little _sparkle_ to your eyes even if you haven't slept in days, enough fresh-smelling perfume to cover the fact that you haven't bathed in a week, and a little suaveness to your voice for that extra edge you'll need to land the girl of your dreams!"

"Messrs. Weasley, this is _not_ the time to be selling your joke products," Professor McGonagall scolded. "And there had better not be any love potion within that mixture of yours, because you'll be in with more than just the school if- "

"Oh, there's no love potion in here at all! Nothing of such dubious legality," Fred answered with a shocked expression. "Why, I'm offended! We're running a _proper_ business here! Our product is only just as effective as love potion, that's all!" Many of the Gryffindors rolled their eyes in disbelief.

"We just invented this to _help_ our fellow Gryffindors," George added. "Some people just need every little advantage they can get to snag themselves a belle, like..." he gestured his hand around the room as several boys ducked behind the chairs and tables to avoid being made an example. "Hey, where's Neville gone to? Or Harry?"

* * *

"Harry, you have to relax to do this properly!"

Harry was frozen stiff. It wasn't because the water was cold, because the Room of Requirement had created a swimming pool with very comfortable temperature water. It was because his head was pressed up against Hermione's soft breasts as he floated on his back while she supported his shoulders. Harry was surprisingly comfortable in the water for someone who never had swimming lessons as a child. When they first practiced simply dipping underwater and controlling his breath, he was perfectly fine with it. He didn't want to mention to Hermione how Dudley and his gang used to dunk his head into the toilets at school. When they moved on to floating, however, Hermione got a lot closer to him, bringing along her distractions as well.

"Just close your eyes and listen to my voice, and pretend you're going to sleep on top of the water."

Harry did as he was told, finally letting his arms and legs droop into the water, making himself more buoyant. The water washed against his cheeks, making him jerk his head up whenever it came near his nose. Hermione, having no free hands, pushed his head back down by planting a kiss on his forehead. After a few minutes of this, Harry was quickly getting used to the feeling and kept his head relaxed. He was still unsatisfied with his progress, however, as it had taken half an hour and he hadn't even begun moving in the water yet.

"I'd rather practice my animagus transformation than this," Harry sighed.

"Being a bird won't help you underwater, Harry. The Trial of Water is our more immediate concern. We'll have to put that on hold until you can swim properly," Hermione told him.

"I know, I just wish I could do more than just float here... I feel so useless right now."

"Harry, do you know how long it takes some people to learn how to do just that? Half an hour to get this far is amazing. I mean, look at Neville..." Hermione looked over to her right and asked Luna, "How's Neville coming along?"

Luna had transfigured herself a bikini much like Hermione, but complained that there was far too little material to make anything interesting, so she added extra patches everywhere, until her swimsuit looked more like a Christmas tree made of triangular pieces of fabric, all coloured in shades of red and green. She was still trying to convince Neville to jump into the pool. "Oh, it's excellent! He got his foot in the water this time. Maybe if I just pull him down a bit more..." She leapt at Neville, who was still sitting at the edge, and clung onto his leg as if she were swinging on a rope. Neville desperately wanted to keep himself out but was far too afraid of hurting Luna to try to wrench her off.

"Maybe you should try a gentler approach ," suggested Hermione.

Luna let go of Neville's leg and climbed out of the pool. Neville, afraid that Luna would be doing the opposite of Hermione's suggestion and try to push him in, kept facing her as she walked around him. He was completely taken aback when she smushed her chest against his cheek. Unfortunately, being nearly two years younger than Hermione made her far less developed. Luna looked down at Neville, who was now speechless as well as frozen stiff. She frowned. "I don't think it's working, Hermione. I can't quite do it the way you're doing it with Harry."

Hermione nearly dropped Harry into the water as she said, "That's not what I meant, Luna..."

After an hour, Harry had already become comfortable floating on his back and on his front. Hermione was quite impressed, thinking they may have done swimming lessons before, as well. Neville was finally in the water, holding on to the edge of the pool, while still pretty reluctant to dip his head in the water. The boys climbed out, drying themselves off with the towels the room provided, while the girls finally got to do some real swimming of their own.

"Do you mind if I ask what makes you so afraid of the water, Neville? I mean, we've duelled with Moody inside the Forbidden Forest, for Merlin's sake. I didn't think you'd have many fears left, to be honest."

Neville was unsure whether he should answer or not, but after taking a few deep breaths, he spoke up softly, the way he used to in the last few years before becoming friends with Harry. "I... had a bad experience with water when I was little. You know how everyone called me a squib, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "You're no squib, Neville. Maybe not as magically powerful as me, but you're a fine wizard yourself."

Neville shook his head. "There was a time when my family wouldn't even believe that. They really thought I was a squib. I don't know if my great-uncle thought it was better that I die instead of having a squib becoming the heir to the House of Longbottom, but he certainly was determined to make me prove that I was magical or die trying."

Harry's eyes widened. The Dursleys were neglectful, rude, and outright abusive at times, but would they have _killed_ him for being a "freak?" _Probably not,_ thought Harry. _But then again, probably only because they thought Dumbledore would investigate... not to mention they'd have to explain why I stopped showing up for school._ "Did... he try to drown you or something?"

Neville nodded. "One of the times he threw me off a pier into a lake. I could see him stopping my grandmother from trying to save me until I blacked out underwater."

"I'm sorry, Neville. I had no idea where you're coming from. You don't have to do this with us if you really don't want to."

"No, I think I do. I have to. I don't know what made me ask if I could practice occlumency with you, but I'm glad I did. When I came along with you to Moody's practice sessions, he practically told me that I really had some magical talents. I really need to face my fears and get over my weaknesses, Harry. Can I ask you why it's so easy for you? Have you learned how to swim before?"

"No, my experience with water is nearly as bad as with yours. My cousin and his gang used to dunk my head into the toilets for fun. It's only easier because this time, it's with Hermione, and I trust her with my life."

"Thanks. I just wish I could trust Luna that way..." Neville said wistfully.

"Well, you can always trust her to be different, at least..." Harry said before he caught Neville's expression. "Wait... that's not the only reason you're nervous about swimming is it? You're nervous about swimming _with Luna_." He grinned.

"I'm not sure if I really do like her that way... but it's the way she completely ignores what people expect of her and just does what she feels she should. Sometimes I wish I could be more like her. Well, not the really weird things she does, but you know what I mean. I do want to get to know her better..."

"Then why don't you start by asking her to the ball?"

"But... what if she says no?" asked Neville fearfully.

"But what if she says yes? You'll never guess what it took for me to admit I loved Hermione, Neville. I was an idiot for not doing it earlier. And with Luna, you know she'll never _just_ say no even if she rejects you. It should be interesting!" Harry laughed at his own memory. _As long as it doesn't take poisoning himself with basilisk venom and going back in time, Neville should be fine._

"You're right... I should ask her, at the very least. Maybe at the beginning of winter break... I can get ready..." Neville said to himself.

"Why not now?" asked Harry. "We're all friends in this room. You won't have to do it in front of the school. Besides, even though there may not be many other people who like Luna as much as you do, if you don't ask her now someone else might." As he said this, he had an epiphany. _Is this why Hermione wanted us to skip the announcement? So she could set up Luna and Neville?_ He looked over at the girls, who by then had stopped swimming. They were talking to each other, occasionally glancing at him and Neville.

"Do they have to keep looking at me like that?" Neville walked to the edge of the pool. Hermione gave Luna a nudge. The small blonde witch bobbed over to Neville, staying in the pool and looking up at him. Neville fidgeted for a while as Harry and Hermione moved off to the side to watch from a distance.

"You planned this, didn't you?" Harry asked.

"What? Me?" Hermione asked innocently. "_They're_ the ones who are setting themselves up. Haven't you noticed how much Neville watches out for Luna when we have our practices with Moody?"

Harry shook his head dumbly. "I thought it was just because the two of them expected me to pair with you for all the exercises anyways..."

"No, not like that! It's the little things, like how he can't stop himself from wincing every time Luna gets a bruise, or how he hesitates whenever you stun her..."

"You notice these things? I kinda noticed he hesitates, but I just consider that an opening. I usually end up stunning him two seconds later."

"Well, yes, but when he wakes up the first thing he does is check on Luna as well," explained Hermione. She was interrupted by a fearful scream. Luna had leapt out of the water and hugged Neville's legs, causing him to lose balance and fall into the pool. "I guess that's that. Let's hope he doesn't regret what he just got himself into," Hermione said as she pulled Harry to the sputtering Neville.

* * *

Two days later they saw a very irritated Fleur walk through the Great Hall for breakfast. There was something about her that seemed very odd, much like a model with too much makeup on. They could practically smell her from across the room, and it didn't smell like high-quality perfume, either. Her Beauxbatons uniform was a shade of pink instead of light blue. When she spotted Harry, she made a beeline straight for his seat.

"J'en ai ras le bol! 'Arry Potter, I was told you may 'ave an idea who made zis despicable powder?" She tried brushing some of the stuff off her uniform, but it just caused it to spread, while producing a few dull sparks and foam when she did.

For something that looked like an obvious prank, Harry knew exactly who would have done it. Then again, the twins didn't seem to be pranking all that much this year, concentrating more on their products for their new business. Since he missed the show in Gryffindor Tower, he actually didn't know what it was, but he was curious to find out. "I have a guess, Fleur. Could you tell me what happened?"

"Well, I 'appened to run into Cedric in ze 'allways. I could tell 'e was interested in asking me to ze ball, but he was a little nervous, even if 'e hid it well. I decided to 'elp him along..."

"With your Veela powers, you mean?" asked Hermione dryly.

"Of course," answered Fleur. "If you 'ad a skill zat set you apart from ze others, would you not use it?"

"It's only good for a superficial, temporary infatuation. It's so _shallow_."

"I know exactly what my allure is good for. It is simply ze best makeup and perfume zat even money cannot buy. A girl like you 'as never even attempted to find yourself a boy, 'ave you?"

"I don't need to. I already have Harry, and he's the only one I'll ever want in my life," Hermione affirmed.

"Do not denounce ze... techniques ozzer girls use when you are simply _lucky_ to find the man of your dreams. Some of us must _work_ to get the attention of our intended..."

Harry cut in before the argument could escalate further. "I'll have to admit I'm really lucky and I don't know the first thing about asking a girl out, but could we get back to the matter at hand? What happened after you turned on your allure with Cedric?"

Giving an unfriendly look to Hermione before answering, she scowled as she turned to Harry. "I was besieged! Before Cedric could answer, I was pelted with zis powder from all ze 'ogwarts boys around me! Now it is in my 'air, my clothes, and I dare not risk anything more potent zen _Scourgify_ on my uniform."

"I'll be right back," Harry said as he got up and jogged down to the other side of the table, where the twins were sitting. "Hey guys, you wouldn't happen to be responsible for a certain pink powder, would you?"

"Responsible? Harry, my friend, our little product is raking in the coins this week!" Fred answered gleefully.

"Yeah, I think we probably should have charged more. Eight knuts a dose and we almost couldn't keep up with demand!" George added.

"It even landed me this fine woman for the upcoming ball," Fred said while wrapping his arm around Angelina.

She laughed. "No it didn't. That ridiculous powder made you wait an extra day for me."

"Well, Katie saw the effects herself, and couldn't resist my advances." George wrapped his arm around his date in a mirror image of his brother.

"You didn't even use it on me! I was just laughing too hard when you used it on Angelina that I couldn't say no." Katie slapped George's thigh. "You should consider yourself lucky that I'm a girl who enjoys your crazy brand of humour."

"Still, you can't deny the power of rumour. Everyone heard the story of the powder, and everyone saw us walking hand-in-hand the next day." Fred grinned and held Angelina's hand.

"Add them together and you have a thriving business, especially when most of the school will be going home for the holidays on Friday," George said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Some figure it's their last chance to snag themselves a date, so they're taking every bit of help they can get."

"Even if that help isn't exactly guaranteed to be help at all," Angelina finished for them.

"I see..." said Harry. "And this powder... is it _supposed_ to spark and foam up? Not to mention the smell..."

"Huh? No, it's supposed to make bubbles and glitter. Although it did do that when we left a pile of it on our workbench for an hour," George recalled.

"But we measured out each packet so that it just disperses long before that can happen," Fred explained.

"And what if a girl gets hit with more than one?"

"Err... it shouldn't be too bad. As long as there was some time in between for the powder to disperse. I guess some of the prettier, unmatched girls might have some problems for the next few days," George explained.

"At least it gives them more incentive to say yes to _somebody_ to take themselves off the market," Fred howled in laughter. "And then our product will really sell!"

The girls beside them both punched them in their arms. "Guys! That's horrible!"

"But what if that girl gets hit with a dozen of them at the same time?"

The twins' eyes boggled. "Is there a girl _that_ popular in our school? I mean, I can appreciate some girls like Cho Chang, or the Patil twins in your year, or even Alexandra York in seventh year, but she's already with Anzers, everyone knows that."

"You're forgetting our foreign visitors. Namely, one French champion in particular," Harry's eyes darted in the direction of Fleur, who was keeping her distance but was already plotting the twins' demise from afar. "Especially when she turns on her aura."

"I have to say, that pink really doesn't suit her," George said fearfully.

"And those sparks might be bad for her hair," Fred commented.

"Look, I'll try to stop her from killing you if you tell me how to clean it up. Apparently the scouring charm isn't enough, and those robes are probably expensive," Harry said. The twins quickly explained how to get rid of the mess, how to avoid future messes, and even handed a small squeeze bottle of cleaning solution.

"Our own invention," Fred explained. "We use it to clean up evidence quickly. Don't worry about damaging the robes, because that was always one of the dead give-aways we were up to something in our first few years at Hogwarts."

"Thanks," Harry said as he took the bottle. "You guys know you owe me, right?"

The twins nodded quickly as they watched Fleur glare at them until Harry reached her. He explained how wind spells would get rid of the powder quickly if anyone else used one again, but gave her the bottle of cleaning solution for the powder that had stuck to her robes. A few quick spritzes and the powder began to fade away, along with its effects. Fleur was pleasantly surprised at its effectiveness.

"Zis is a very good cleanser! Where did zey get this?"

"Apparently they invented it themselves, like the powder. They don't have anything against you, Fleur, they've just been selling that stuff to all the boys who are desperate to find a date."

"Oh? Zey 'ave a business before zey 'ave graduated? Ze 'romance powder' may be something out of a cheap romance novel, but this cleanser is the best I've used. Hm... perhaps I can work out a deal with zem." She left Harry and walked towards the twins, putting on a malicious face. They were now deathly afraid that Harry's bid to calm her hadn't worked- softening them up for Fleur's business proposition.

"I can see why she told you to lavish me with gifts. She knows you've got money, doesn't she?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe. She could tell I wasn't really worried about prices when we went shopping, I guess." Harry shrugged.

"She likes to _use_ people like commodities! Did she ask for anything in return? She tell you that you owed her for the advice, did she?" Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"What? No, she didn't. I gave her and her friends a box of sweets from Honeydukes, but that's it. Why are you so critical of her? Please don't tell me you're jealous or something..."

"No, not in the least. But she's probably got her eye on you- maybe not as a boyfriend, but maybe as a 'good friend' because she knows you'll be famous, and probably knows you're rich. Did you see how quickly her mood changed when she realized Fred and George could be... _profitable_ for her?"

"Are you telling me I should start avoiding her?"

"That's what leaves me so conflicted. She knows how to make the right friends, if you know what I mean. She's already looking to build family alliances or something, like what the pureblood Slytherins have had for generations. I don't like getting caught up in those kinds of political drama, but at the same time, it could be really useful. Just be careful what you do and say around her, alright?"

* * *

Harry couldn't wait for the holidays to arrive, because it meant he would be heading to Hermione's home for the break. As the train rolled into the station, they saw the occasional poof of pink in the crowd. Some people were _very_ desperate.

"I can't believe they're not just writing letters. That has to be the most annoying way to ask someone on a date," Hermione muttered.

"Some people still haven't figured it out yet. I mean, Fleur got hit with it and the next day she has a date!" Harry laughed.

"Yes, with the one boy who _didn't_ use that stuff." Hermione said with a annoyed smirk.

"You know the twins never lied outright when they advertised their product. They simply said that certain people _had_ used it, and they _did_ happen to have dates the next day..."

"Almost lying is just as bad," Hermione said through gritted teeth. It certainly didn't help that almost all the girls complained about the stuff day and night for the past week to her, but at least she could watch from the sidelines instead of being a victim of its effects.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's get a compartment and make sure no single ladies are with us..." Harry laughed as they boarded the train. It was far easier to find an empty cabin than at the beginning and end of the school year, since many students chose to simply stay at school, including Neville and Luna. They decided to have one cabin all to themselves, and Hermione immediately cast several privacy wards they had practiced from the auror's handbook. After a locking charm on the door, she also cast a silencing ward and identification ward on the door. She added one-way glass charms on the windows as well, so they could still see outside and buy a snack from the trolley lady. From the other side, it would look like they had simply drawn the blinds.

Surely enough, the wards proved themselves useful less than an hour after the train left the station. Harry was listening to Hermione's stories of what they used to do during winter break before Hogwarts, and this would have been the first time Hermione had been back with her parents for Christmas since first year. A beeping noise came from the door as the identification ward detected someone they were specifically watching out for- Draco Malfoy. A few seconds later, Draco and his little posse, including Pansy, were standing right outside the door.

"Are you sure this is the one?" Draco asked.

"Of course. A few of the girls from Potter's fan club saw them go in by themselves. They shut the door behind them and haven't come out," Pansy told him.

Inside, Harry looked over to Hermione. "I have a fan club?"

Hermione nodded. "You didn't expect to be a national celebrity and not have fans, did you? A lot of little girls grew up hearing your name in bedtime stories."

"And you're okay with that? How come I've never met any of them?"

"Oh, it's not a real club anyways. Just a bunch of girls who like to get together and gossip about you. A bunch of them kept pestering me about how good a kisser you are."

"And what did you tell them?"

"I told them to mind their own business."

"And what would you tell me?" Harry moved closer.

"Practice makes perfect?" Hermione put her arms on Harry's shoulders.

"...and they're probably just snogging each other in there," they heard Pansy say outside.

"Are you sure that silencing ward is working properly?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and the locking charm, too," said Hermione as Draco fiddled with the knob. They heard him cast _Alohamora_ to no effect.

Kicking the door in frustration, Draco said, "Come on. We can get them when it's time to leave the train." Crabbe and Goyle grunted and followed. Harry watched them walk to the end of the car, and just as they filed through the door to the next car, Harry opened the door to the cabin and quickly cast a basic tracking charm, hitting Goyle. He closed the door and locked it before Goyle could see him, if he had even noticed anything.

"What did you just do?" asked Hermione.

"Tracking charm. Since he's planning on ambushing us when we leave, I think a little pre-emptive strike is in order. It'll make it easier to find them all in their cabin, maybe an hour before we get to London, and then we can just lock them in."

"I like it. They won't even see us do it. I really have to wonder why he's so fixated on you, though."

"I think he considers himself my mortal enemy or something, but I've got bigger and eviler fish to fry." The subject of Voldemort brought the conversation to a grinding halt. They looked at each other in silence, unsure of what to say next. Harry tried to lighten the mood by saying, "Well, maybe we should be glad that Draco is offering himself up to be target practice for me."

For the remainder of the train ride, Harry and Hermione decided to practice their animagus training again. Without the room of requirement and with little space to move, they obviously couldn't do any swimming or duelling practice. It would be the only time they would have dedicated to training their animagi forms until the Trial of Water, since Hermione was determined to bring Harry to the swimming pool during the winter holidays, as well. Their shapeshifting would be put on hold to make sure Harry was as comfortable in a watery environment as quickly as possible.

Picking up where they had left off weeks ago, they were both capable of shifting their limbs. Harry could turn his arm from the elbow down into a slightly misshapen wing with light feathering, which he used to fan Hermione playfully. The rest of his body, however, seemed to be very unwilling. Hermione seemed to be running into the same problem. Transforming her extremities wasn't much of a problem, but changing the rest of her body, and her size, was proving to be difficult. Every time they tried, they would suddenly suffer a strange panic attack and back out immediately. It seemed an entirely foreign body was going to be very hard to get used to, on an instinctive level.

When the train passed by Northampton, they knew they were getting close. Practicing their sneaking skills, they cast silencing charms on their shoes and their best disillusionement they could muster. They carefully followed the tracking spell to the next car until Harry's wand pointed into a cabin. Moving slowly so their disillusionment wasn't as noticeable, Harry peeked inside to make sure they were all there.

"Looks like they're still plotting our demise," Harry whispered.

"Alright then. If they couldn't figure out how to undo the private gate charm, then the prison lock will really trap them. _Claucerus!_"

"_Silencio!"_ Harry added to the door. "What? I can't just let them call for help that easily." They stayed there for a few more minutes, but it was obvious Draco and his little gang weren't coming out any time soon. "You know, as much as I'd like to see Malfoy's face as he struggles to get out of his cabin, I'd rather not be late in meeting your parents. Let's go."

The rest of the train ride was entirely peaceful until they pulled to a stop at King's Cross. Crossing the barrier to the platform, Hermione squealed as she ran up to her parents, hugging them both. Harry stood with the trunks, watching the love and cheer in the Granger family, until Hermione and Emma walked over and pulled Harry into their little family reunion.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- yes, this chapter is a result of another one of my silly one-shot ideas, i.e. "how to incorporate Bishie Sparkle into Harry Potter." I thought the Weasley twins were the perfect vessel for that.


	20. Last Minute Shopping

**Author's Notes: **HP belongs to JKR

- I've noticed that going to work actually helps me get ideas for the story.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Last-Minute Shopping**

"Run that by me again?" Dan was staring at his wife.

"You heard me perfectly well the first time. Hermione wants to..." Emma began.

"That's the part that makes no sense. _Hermione_ asked to go shopping in London? Not you?"

"Yes! She asked to pick out a dress."

"So she's _not_ going there to buy more magical textbooks? Are you sure that's really our daughter that stepped off the train?"

"Hermione's still a girl, Dan. She can still get excited about going to a dance. Oh, she'll need shoes, perfume, and a haircut as well."

"All this for a school dance?" Dan shook his head in disbelief.

"It's not just a dance. It's a fancy ball. You know, if she was still in normal school, she would have gone to a school formal next year anyways."

"Well, at least I know who her date is. I'll have a nice man-to-man talk with him while you girls go shopping for a day."

"Actually, Harry's coming with us. He wants to help shop, and I think he needs some formal clothing himself."

"He hasn't got a suit?" Remembering the phone conversation he had with the Dursleys last summer, reminded himself, "Oh, right. Of course not."

"Hermione mentioned that wizards wear a dress-robe or something like that for these occasions, while the girls are closer in line with normal fashion. We might end up dropping by Diagon Alley again."

"Well, we might as well make it a family affair then. I'll come along," Dan resigned.

"Actually, I have a job for you to do." Emma gave her husband a slightly patronizing smile. "Don't make that face at me, you know as well as I do that you'd be bored out of your mind if you came along anyway."

"And Harry won't?"

"As far as Hermione can tell, clothes shopping is probably an entirely new experience for him. He's had nothing but hand-me-downs from his overweight cousin. He never wore anything that fit until he bought his first wizard robes. This should be fun for him."

Dan sighed. "I know he's a good kid, but I wonder how much of this... new Hermione is because of him."

"I know what you mean, but I don't think it's because of Harry. She's known him for three years before they became a couple. Maybe this is just Hermione growing up."

"What scares me the most is the fact that we might not be there to see it. We see her last summer and she brings home a boy, and a few months later the first thing she buys is one of those full-length swimsuit racers wear, and then she's talking fancy dresses. Have you seen how much she dotes on Harry? She might as well have been talking wedding dresses instead of evening gowns."

Emma's eyes widened. "I'm not going to let my little girl get married before she's graduated and landed herself a solid, well-paying job. I don't want her growing up dependent on some man."

Dan knew he'd finally managed to push one of his wife's buttons. He never dared to tell her, but she did look incredibly sexy when she argued passionately about something. He wondered how much further he could take it with her. "You know, if she _does_ marry Harry, she wouldn't have to work another day in her life," he said with a smirk.

"Don't you dare suggest that Hermione become some kind of gold-digger," she glared at him with flames burning behind her eyes. "Since when did your daughter's wealth become more important than her happiness?"

Dan backpedalled quickly. "That's not what I said! I'm just saying that the extra money that Harry's got certainly isn't a bad thing."

"It is if she ends up being stuck doing nothing with her life with nothing to do except be a housewife."

"Harry wouldn't do that to her. Heck, she wouldn't let Harry do that. Have you seen her drag Harry out of the house to the swimming pool for the early bird swim the last few mornings? I think she's the dominant one in that relationship." Dan couldn't believe he was suddenly defending Harry.

"Oh, from what I've read in Hermione's letters, Harry can get pretty fierce when he has to. And did she show you the earrings he bought for her? Apparently he just got them on a whim, no special occasion at all."

"It might have been special to Harry. I think he'll end up paying for Hermione's dress instead of us, if this is their first dance," Dan added.

"I'm not going to take advantage of the poor boy!"

"Rich boy, you mean," Dan laughed. "And I'm not saying you should, I'm saying Harry will probably do his damnedest to try."

* * *

Despite being in the late morning on a Friday, the shops were still as hectic as ever, as there were only two days until Christmas. They went from shop to shop as Hermione tried on many different evening gowns. Harry noted that she only picked dresses with a fully covered back, which quickly limited the selection. Being outside of school, neither of them could re-cast the glamours to hide their runes. Hermione wouldn't dare wear a dress that would let her parents see the scars. Unfortunately, the trends in fashion seemed to be towards revealing more and more skin, especially along the woman's back.

Hermione had also brought along the earrings Harry bought her in Hogsmeade. Feeling that it would be a rather odd combination wearing such elegant jewellery alongside her jeans, turtleneck and beanie while walking down the street, she kept the earrings in her purse and put them on each time she tried a dress. The first few dresses that caught her attention didn't make it out of the dressing room, before she realized she couldn't expose her back. Several more didn't make the cut after she put on her earrings, realizing the colours would clash. Soon enough, they were walking through stores and back out without trying a single one.

"You seem to be really picky about your dresses, Hermione," Emma said to her daughter. "Do you already have an idea of what you want, or are you finding that dresses aren't appealing to you?"

"No, mum, I want a dress for sure. I'm just looking for something with a high neck, and a slim waist, maybe like a corset. Kind of like the old medieval dresses in the movies, you know? But not too poofy or frilly. A little more modern, a bit more flow to it. The less-is-more mantra that a lot of cocktail dresses seem to take, but a lot of these take away a bit too much, and I think wizarding society is still pretty far behind muggles in terms of fashion. I think Professor McGonagall is biting her lip every time she sees one of us girls expose our knees! Oh, and I absolutely adore these earrings Harry got for me," she said, smiling sweetly as Harry tried to make sense of what Hermione was describing. "So I want the dress to be a deep blue, maybe as far as indigo, to match."

Emma nodded. "Well, you've certainly given this a lot of thought."

"I know, but I'm beginning to think that we might not be able to find one. Am I being too fussy? Maybe I should just settle on something less..."

"NO!" Emma and Harry both shouted at the same time, causing all three of them to look at each other in curiosity.

"You first," Emma said to Harry.

"I just... want this to be absolutely perfect for you, Hermione. I don't want you to have to settle for anything. Maybe we can find a seamstress who can make a custom dress for you?" Harry asked hopefully.

Emma shook her head. "No, not at this time of year. They're probably all busy filling out orders for Christmas, and then the shops will be closed on both Christmas and Boxing day, so at best, they'll start on the 27th. You have to head back to school on the 29th. I doubt they could finish it in time, especially since many of them might still have a backlog of orders for alterations to get ready for New Year's. A pre-made one in a shop is our best bet."

Hermione sighed. "Well, we still have a few hours left. Let's keep looking."

The rest of Hermione's scheduled shopping time wasn't a complete waste, as they did manage to find her a pair shoes for the evening. They were a silvery-coloured, strappy sandal with a relatively low, 3 cm heel. Hermione had chosen them because she was unused to wearing heeled shoes at all, but still managed to pick something elegant for the occasion. She went on to buy another two pairs, both slightly different shades of blue with the same heel height but with different strap patterns, just in case they didn't match the dress she eventually hoped to find. It was nearing three o'clock, when they were just about to move on to Diagon Alley to find Harry's dress robes when Hermione stopped in front of a shop.

"What is it? Have you found it?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "No, not exactly. This is... almost what I had in mind," she said, pointing to one of the dresses on a mannequin. It was a two-piece dress, with a soft, curvy corset up top that laced up at the back and a smooth, slim skirt that flared out below the knees. The second part was a long-sleeved shrug that matched the dress, hugging the arms but widening at the elbows. It would cover her back perfectly and ended at the top with a choker collar. In front, it narrowed sharply to the neck which worked with the dress to expose a diamond-shaped keyhole, perfect for displaying a necklace. The only problem with it was that it was a deep burgundy instead of anything remotely blue.

"Why don't you try it on anyways? It's just the colour that's off, isn't it? Maybe they'll have another one inside," Harry suggested. They walked inside the store and asked to try it on. Hermione didn't come out of the dressing room, but asked for her mother to step inside with her. Harry could hear them chattering to each other.

"Well, it would be absolutely beautiful if it were about two sizes smaller. Can't you tighten up it up a bit?"

"That's as tight as it gets, Mum."

"I'm sure a few small alterations would be all it would take to fit..."

"Well, the colour's off anyways. This would be absolutely wonderful in blue."

"Are you sure it has to be blue? This does look elegant as it is..."

"Harry bought me these earrings remember? And sapphire's my birthstone. He really put a lot of thought into these."

"Well, we might be able to find another one like it."

"We've been up, down, and all over London today. It'll take a miracle to find something like this again."

Emma stepped back out while Hermione took off the dress. She and Harry found the store manager. Emma asked, "Do you have that same dress she's trying on in a smaller size and in blue or indigo?"

The lady shook her head. "I'm sorry, that's all we have at the moment. I could put in an order for you, but it won't arrive until the first week of January. We do have a few other dresses over here..."

Harry could tell from a quick glance that none of them were what Hermione was looking for. All three of them glumly left the shop. "Well, we can always go shopping for another two days before you have to go back to school. We'll be able to find something then," Emma suggested hopefully.

Hermione was in a dour mood until they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and stepped through the enchanted wall into Diagon Alley. After a quick stop at Gringotts, they went directly to Madam Malkin's. Inside, it was even busier than Flouish and Blott's at the end of summer. The shop was filled with boys who needed dress robes, and thankfully there were a dozen new hires working frantically to have all of them fitted properly. Dress robes appeared to be a blend of muggle tuxedo and their regular robes, to Harry's surprise. Apparently wizarding fashion wasn't too far behind muggles- but then again, muggle men's fashion didn't change as dramatically or as quickly as the women's.

Once Harry was changed, Hermione gave him a little wolf whistle. "You look so much more handsome in a suit, Harry. We're going to have to buy you a bunch of muggle suits and blazers next summer. I _like_ this."

With a smile, Harry headed to the counter. The witch asked, "Will that be all? All our dress robes come with the basic Fabulous-Fit charm, but you can add the Stain-Stopper, Lintless, and a basic Self-Repair charm for only three Sickles."

"Oh, I'd like that," Harry said. An idea came to him at that moment. "Suppose I brought some muggle clothes here, could you charm them for me? I'll need all the charms on my dress robe and a permanent colour change as well."

"Sorry, for now we're only doing alterations on our own clothes. With Christmas along with the ball at Hogwarts, we're far too busy as it is. I'd suggest heading over to Unifer's Alley. Mrs. Malkin's sister owns a shop there, only it's called Mistress Malkin's. She shouldn't be nearly as busy as us right now."

Harry thanked her and paid for his new robes. He debated with himself whether or not he should tell Hermione, but settled on surprising her. It would make a perfect Christmas gift. As he walked out of the store with the two Granger women, he asked, "Hermione, Mrs. Granger, do you have any plans for tomorrow? I was thinking of going out by myself for a little bit to buy Hermione's Christmas present."

Emma frowned. "I don't want a fourteen-year-old boy out on the streets shopping by himself, especially on one of the most hectic shopping days of the year. Pickpocketers and muggers will be just as busy as the shoppers, you know. I'm guessing you want it to be a surprise for Hermione," she glanced at her daughter, who smiled understandingly. "But you should go with Dan. Make sure you're back early, because we have quite a dinner to prepare."

Harry nodded vigorously. "Thanks, Mrs. Granger. Maybe I can get Dobby to help you with dinner."

"Who's Dobby?" Emma looked surprised.

"He's a house-elf that bonded to me when I freed him from the Malfoys," Harry explained. "He loves doing housework, actually."

"Harry! You shouldn't take advantage of him like that! You should free him instead of enslaving him to you..." Hermione scolded, but quickly stopped. "Wait, I think I've had this argument with you before..."

"Yeah, me too," Harry said. "Maybe Dobby can explain it? Dobby!" Harry called out for his house-elf.

"I is here, Master Harry!" Dobby proudly appeared in front of them. Emma jumped back in surprise and stared at the wee little creature standing before them.

"Dobby, I want you to help the Grangers prepare their Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow." Dobby's eyes lit up with excitement. "But first, can you explain why you bonded to me?"

"I is being bonded to Master Harry because Master Harry is noble and proud! Master Harry is a good master!" Dobby hopped up and down gleefully.

"No, Dobby... what I meant was, when you were freed from the Malfoys, why didn't you just... stay free? Why did you bond yourself to anybody at all?" Harry asked him.

Dobby's eyes watered. "Is Master Harry wanting to free Dobby? I has been bad house-elf! I am working for Hogwarts when I should be working for Master Harry!" He threw himself to the ground and began thumping his head on the brick walkway. Emma stared in disbelief at Dobby's behaviour, still completely dumbstruck.

"No! Dobby, stop! I command you to stop hurting yourself!" Harry quickly picked the elf up and set him on his feet. "I'm just curious why you'd want to be free from the Malfoys but why you wouldn't want to... stay free."

"But if I is free, then I cannot work!" Dobby said. Harry and Hermione stared at him for a moment, thinking there would be more to his answer.

"Wait, so... you like working?" Dobby nodded.

"But... what if you could be free and just do whatever you like, for yourself?" Hermione asked.

Dobby looked horrified. "I would die without Master Harry! House-elfs cannot work for himselfs! It would be like tickling by yourself... or holding your hand with your hand... no, clapping to yourself..." Dobby's face scrunched up in confusing as he attempted to explain it.

Hermione seemed to understand. "So you mean when you work for someone else, it's like... when Harry and I hold each other's hands? That's how you feel?"

Dobby bounced up and down at the analogy. "Yes, yes, or like when Master Harry and Her-mininy press faces each day!"

Hermione went red as she avoided her mother's gaze, while Harry covered his eyes with his hand. They were still careful never to kiss in front of their parents, rather embarrassed about explaining how deep their relationship had become in a few short months, but here was ten pounds of tiny magical elf proclaiming they had done so on a regular basis. "Thank you Dobby, that's all for now. You can come back tomorrow when it's time to cook dinner..."

When Dobby disappeared again, Emma turned to her daughter and said, "You seem to have left out a lot of information in your letters home." Turning to Harry, she said, "And you should just be glad I sent Dan on some errands instead of going shopping with us today."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" Dan asked.

"No, this should be fine." Harry stood at the side of the road and held his wand up. With a sudden bang, a huge, purple, triple-decker bus appeared in front of them. Dan stumbled backwards, almost as if the Knight Bus had crashed into place. Harry stepped on and it took a few seconds for Dan to come to his senses and follow him.

Harry paid the fare for both of them to Diagon Alley, where he exchanged some Galleons for pounds. Dan's eyes boggled once again at the amount of cash Harry was about to put into his pocket. "Uh, Harry, I know I've said this before, but perhaps you shouldn't carry so much cash with you. Diagon Alley seems like a fairly nice place, but if we're walking into London then you might lose that before you get a chance to spend it..."

The goblin overheard Dan, and said to Harry, "We take the security of our money very seriously, Mr. Potter. May I interest you in a blood-sealed mokeskin, guaranteed against theft by Gringotts?"

"Uh, could you explain what that is?" asked Harry.

The goblin already had its hands under the desk, ready to grab a few contracts and a blood needle as soon as Harry said the right words. "A mokeskin pouch is a good method of storage to prevent theft. The pouch itself can shrink until it becomes invisible to everyone except the owner. Our pouches, however, are further protected with a blood seal that can only be opened by the owner."

"That sounds very useful. How much is it?"

The goblin quickly whipped out a parchment, quill, and the blood needle, placing them on the desk. "Nine galleons flat for the pouch and the blood seal." Harry could easily afford that, so he picked up the quill. The goblin stopped him just before the tip touched the parchment. "Could I also offer you some additional features for your pouch, Mr. Potter?"

"Uh, what kind of features?"

"For an additional fee of eleven sickles, we can give it the Constantly Correct Change Compartment, which will automatically withdraw from your account exactly the right amount of change you require for every transaction. There is an additional transaction fee of only two Knuts for each purchase you make this way."

Harry hesitated for a moment, but decided it would be extremely helpful, not to mention convenient, not to have to visit Gringotts every single time he needed to make a purchase, nor ever accidentally be short on cash. He would have to restrict that feature for large purchases, as an extra two Knuts on every little purchase would add up quickly. "Will I be able to keep some coins on hand instead of making a separate withdrawal each time?" he asked, to be sure.

The goblin's smile faltered slightly as he explained, "Yes, the compartment is accessed by a separate flap on the outside of the pouch. When you have finalized your purchase at any store, simply open the flap and empty its contents, which will always be exactly the right amount you need. The interior of the bag will hold the coins you have placed in there yourself."

When Harry nodded in acceptance, the parchment suddenly lengthened and a new paragraph appeared detailing the new feature. He was just about to sign it again when the goblin stopped him.

"Do you also foresee yourself making purchases in British Pounds soon?"

Harry nodded.

"The Currency Exchange Enchantment is available for both the main compartment of the pouch and the Constantly Correct Change Compartment for only six sickles, which will allow you to pull out money in the currency that is accepted at the store. Of course, there is a small transaction fee of only two percent per purchase."

"I can guess it's automatic for the change compartment, but how do I convert the money inside the main compartment?" Harry asked. _I don't want to do it by accident, _he thought.

"Simply hold the coins in your hand, while keeping it inside the pouch, and say the name of the currency you wish to convert them to. They will immediately change in your hand," the goblin explained.

Harry took a deep breath. It certainly was useful, and he was muggle-raised after all. Hermione was muggle-born, so he would be expecting quite a bit of muggle shopping with her in the future. "That seems useful..." he said, and the contract once again lengthened and another paragraph appeared. Moving his hand down to the signature line, the goblin spoke up once more.

"The withdrawal limit for both the Currency Exchange Enchantment and the Correct Change Compartment is currently set at one hundred galleons. We could raise it as high as five hundred galleons, for a small fee..."

Dan stepped in at this point. "Harry, you don't need that. The current features should be fine, he'll take it as it is, won't you, Harry?"

Harry agreed. "That should be all I need for the pouch." He finally signed his name on the parchment, and allowed the goblin to prick the needle on Harry's finger until it turned red. The goblin gave a menacing snarl at Dan as he hurried away. A few minutes later, he returned with a pouch that he held with metal tweezers.

"Take the pouch, Mr. Potter. After you touch it, nobody will be able to see it again except you." Harry picked it up, putting the strap around his neck and letting it hang inside his shirt. He emptied his usual money-pouch into the new mokeskin one.

Dan shook his head as they left the back. "Vicious, those goblins. I heard they were nasty bankers, but I didn't expect them to be such pushy salesmen as well. Where to next?"

"Um, it was walking distance from the Leaky Cauldron, if I remember correctly. I can't recall the name of the store, but I can find my way there."

"It's not a jewellery store, is it?" Dan asked.

"No, why?"

"Well, we were thinking Hermione needed a necklace to complete her outfit. You already got her earrings that she's determined to wear, so I'll be buying her a necklace today. You had better not be getting one for her, too..."

"No, I'm getting her dress for her," Harry answered.

"I thought you couldn't find one yesterday?" Dan was perplexed.

"I figured a way around that," Harry answered. They walked together for about fifteen minutes before Harry found himself outside the same shop window he was at yesterday. Walking up to the manager, he asked her for the same dress, which was back on display in the front window.

Recognizing Harry, she asked, "Weren't you here yesterday? I thought the dress didn't fit your sister properly?"

Harry laughed. Well, it certainly wasn't usual for a young boy to be dress shopping with his girlfriend's mother. He didn't bother trying to correct her. "Um, I just found someone else who could do alterations quickly. I'd like to buy it now, please."

"Well, that's good news then. I've had so much trouble selling that dress. People come to look at it so often, but nobody's ended up buying it yet." She rang up the dress, neatly folding it and placing it in a large box. Harry paid for it with the money he had withdrawn before, and quickly made their way out.

"So that's it?" Dan asked, waiting for him outside.

"No, we've another stop to make. We have to head back to Diagon Alley." Another fifteen minute walk and they were back in the Leaky Cauldron. Borrowing some Floo powder from Tom, Harry explained to Dan how the Floo worked.

"Mistress Malkin's!" Harry said clearly, throwing the powder into the fireplace. As he stepped through, he tumbled out the other end. He was immensely relieved that he hadn't accidentally crushed Hermione's dress in his fall. Dan stepped out of the fireplace after him, almost tripping over Harry as he arrived.

"Why are you on the floor? Didn't you take a tumble like this last time? Am I really supposed to believe that you're the star athlete at your school?" Dan's eyes narrowed.

"I am! The fireplaces just hate me, that's all." Harry stood up, dusting himself off. They found themselves in a small shop with very unusual clothing- it was almost as if he was in the dressing room for a circus. There were feathery costumes, scaly vests, multicoloured robes not unlike the kind Dumbledore liked to wear, some pyjama-like set that was so thin it could only fit a skeleton, and other bizarre-looking things scattered about.

"Why hello, there. What can I do for you?" came a voice from behind the counter. The woman was shorter than Madam Malkin, but had a confident air about her that made her see much larger than she really was. She was busy sewing something- or, at least, directing half a dozen needles and thread to move themselves across some fabric. Harry was amazed at how much she could concentrate on at once.

"We were told to come here to have some clothes enchanted. I'll need a permanent colouring change on this dress, to a midnight blue. I'll also need the Fabulous Fit, Stain-Stopper, Lintless, and Self-Repair charms on it."

The woman looked at the dress in Harry's hands for a few moments muttering something to herself. "I haven't seen a dress like this in my lifetime. Is that all you want? I can have it done in an hour," Ms. Malkin said. "It'll cost you eight Sickles."

"What other charms can you do?" Harry asked.

"Well, I can put in a slimming charm so the lady will look a few sizes smaller than she actually is..." Harry shook his head. Hermione was plenty beautiful already, and she certainly kept herself in good health after reading all about proper nutrition, diet, and exercise.

"Hm? No? Well, I'd suggest a comfort charm. It'll feel smooth as silk whenever she puts it on, no matter what it's made of. It'll even feel the perfect temperature, even if the room's too hot or cold. That has its limits, though," she explained. "The Envy charm is one of my specialties. Every other dress in the room will seem to be shabby in comparison if you've got this charm on. It doesn't work very well if two dresses both have it. I can also do a Gliding Gown charm. The dress will never drag along the ground, or even up a flight of stairs. She'll never have her foot caught on the hem."

"Uh, I think I'll go for the comfort charm and the Gliding Gown. She can do without the others," Harry said, imagining how Hermione would look on the day of the ball.

"Oh, you've got a beautiful one, don't you? Well, with those two it'll cost you twelve Sickles, and it'll take an extra fifteen minutes." Harry paid and took a note of the time. He and Dan stepped out of the shop and into Unifer's Alley.

Mistress Malkin's, apparently, wasn't the only shop with unusual wares. Every store in this shopping alley seemed to have rare and unique offerings. There was one shop that offered to embellish and personalize wands- etching the owner's name or slightly changing the shape of the grip for better comfort, or even studding jewels in. Harry was perfectly fine with his own wand- he didn't want to dress it up for show. There was another shop that did magical tattoos- and apparently wizardfolk frowned upon tattoos even more than muggles. Harry walked by the shop quickly, as Dan would have given him a harsh glare if he had even looked at the shop any longer. They walked into a shop that seemed to be selling camping equipment, which interested Dan greatly. Unfortunately, wizards' ideas of camping differed greatly from muggles. They seemed to have everything to ignore the outdoors as much as possible, including detailed maps so that wizards could apparate precisely into the campsites without hiking, and tents that were far more luxurious than the one the Weasleys had taken to the World Cup, and animal-repellents that kept all wildlife as far from the campers as possible.

"I could make use of some of these things," said Dan, "But all this stuff together? It makes me wonder why wizards even bother with the concept of camping."

Further down the street, Harry walked into what he thought was a flower shop, at first. He quickly noticed that there were no bouquets- only live plants. As he walked by one pot that had a shrivelled-up, weedy thing that appeared to be dead, it seemed to fill with colour as he got nearer, then shrunk back as he passed. Curious, he returned to it, to find it perk up again. As he reached his hands towards it, a small bud at the end began to open up, revealing some shiny, chrome-like petals. The flower suddenly became tinted with orange right before Harry felt a hand slap down on his shoulder.

"Best not be touchin' that one, it'll suck the magic right outta ya through yer finger." Harry was startled to see a man, presumably the shopkeeper, right behind him.

"Really? It can do that?" Harry quickly put his hand back in his pocket.

"Naw, I'm just foolin' witcha. It does feed off yer magic though, but you'd need a hundred of these 'fore ye'd feel even a smidgen flappy."

"Um... alright..." Harry backed away slowly.

"What can I get fer ya? Would you mind takin' me aciesan off me hands? I ain't got any more blood to feed it since I sold me serpentvine. Can't be killin' chickens for no reason now can I? Din' even mean to sprout it, but once the seed touches a drop o' blood, there's no stopping it, is there? Eh?" He smiled and stared at Harry, expecting an answer.

"Uh... no, I guess not..." Harry said. "But I don't think I'll be needing that plant... I was just here to look at flowers."

"Most people don' come into this here shop to look for flowers, laddie. I got naught but the deadliest plants in all of Britain!" He gave a poorly-contrived evil laugh.

"Didn't you just tell me that first flower I was looking at couldn't hurt me?" Harry asked.

"Aye, I guess that one ain't so deadly. It could kill itself a magical fly, maybe."

"What about normal flies?"

"What about 'em?"

"What if a... never mind. Do you have any flowers? Other than that..." Harry waved in the flower's general direction, which had gone back to its half-dead, wilted state again.

"Affiniter? I do have some pixiehats, I guess..."

"What are those?"

"They're good for attractin' pixies. They like wearin' 'em as hats." Harry shook his head, remembering the class in second year when Lockhart had released a cage of Cornish pixies. He didn't want to attract them to him.

"Have you got any flowers that are a deep blue?" Dan asked. "Hermione will need a corsage," he explained to Harry.

"That's it? Ya just want somefin' blue?" The shopkeeper goggled at him. "Nuffin' ta smite yer foes and eat their toes? Hey, I rhymed!"

"Uh, no. Just a flower... like that one!" Dan noticed a flower at the back of the store, hidden behind a few larger, bushier plants.

"Oh, the Flumpet Cupflower? Some crazy chap sold it to me ages ago. It ain't done nuffin' worth the dirt it's sittin' in. Told me it keeps nargles away. Took a year ta figure it out, if I ain't never seen a nargle before, how do I know they're stayin' away now any more than they were before, huh? I'll sell it to you fer the price of the pot and the dirt, you can have the flower fer free."

Thanking the storeowner, they left the shop with Dan holding the plant. They spent some time browsing other shops, such as one that sold magical armour, and another that had antique tools, like magical staves (which fell to disuse several hundred years ago, after wands were invented). Harry and Dan were both surprised to find one shop that dealt with "Muggle Imports," which helped wizards buy muggle goods- with hefty "locator" fees, of course. There was a shop for exotic pets, none of which Harry had seen before, but at least none of them were exotic enough to be interesting to Hagrid. All of the shops seemed to have unusual things they would have a hard time finding in Diagon Alley, but not as shady as in Knockturn Alley. They continued to check out the odd wares until they found themselves walking towards Mistress Malkin's shop again, only from the other side.

"Did we walk in a circle?" Harry asked Dan.

"No... we've been going straight down the street," Dan answered, perplexed. He looked ahead, and the street did appear to be perfectly straight, stretching into the distance. He looked behind, and it was the same.

"Wait here for a second," Harry said, as he ran ahead. Two minutes later Dan heard Harry shout from behind him. "I think this street loops around somehow," he concluded.

"Then how do we get out of here?"

"Uh, let's just ask Ms. Malkin." They stepped into the shop, where the seamstress was waiting with the dress, neatly packed into the box. The colour would match Hermione's earrings perfectly.

"It's ready, dear. I had ever so much fun with this dress, it reminds me of one of my favourite witches..."

"Thanks," said Harry. "Um, could you tell us how to get out of Unifer's Alley? We didn't see any kind of exit..."

"Are you trying to _walk_ out of here?" Ms. Malkin laughed. "You've got to floo or apparate out of his Alley! We don't have any muggles accidentally wandering in here, like they do sometimes at Diagon."

Dan looked thoroughly unamused while Harry said, "Well, I guess it's Floo again. Time to go back to the Leaky Cauldron."

* * *

The men arrived home just before the women did. Harry hastily began wrapping up the present when he saw Emma's car pull into the driveway. He stopped midway when he saw Hermione step inside. She had cut her hair so that it was now shoulder-length, instead of reaching all the way down her back. Not only that, the hairdresser had apparently given her a perm and conditioner as well, so it lay straight and shiny, as opposed to the dull, bushy mass that she had before. It looked very much like when she climbed out of the pool after her swimming lessons with Harry, which he loved.

"Hermione! I almost didn't recognize you!"

"Do you like it, Harry? I did always want to try something new... Mum helped me choose." Hermione was shyly biting her lip again. The look, combined with the new haircut, was driving Harry mad. He had to constantly remind himself that both parents were watching as he restricted himself to "just" a hug.

"I love it! The shorter hair looks really good on you. Nobody will know what hit them when you step into the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Oh, I got you your present! I'm wrapping it now. Don't look!"

"I got you yours, too. Are you going to tell me what you got me?"

"Of course not! You'll find out tomorrow morning."

Dobby somehow knew to arrive right when they were about to prepare dinner. The Grangers were amazed at how quickly and efficiently Dobby worked. Emma tried to keep up, but eventually ended up sitting back and watching the little elf work his magic around the kitchen. He ended up cooking a delicious feast that the Grangers didn't even know was possible, given what they had (or thought they had) in the refrigerator. As he prepared more and more dishes, he was flying around, and it actually became dangerous for the humans to go anywhere near the kitchen as knives and pots went flying back and forth through the air.

After stuffing themselves with the best (technically) home-cooked meal they had ever eaten, they all settled down in the living room to watch some Christmas films together, including Dobby. The little elf kept fidgeting as he couldn't figure out something to do. Emma suggested that he make some hot cocoa, and he disappeared immediately at the chance to do some work. The evening eventually ended with Harry and Hermione cuddled in each other's arms, sipping the last of their cocoa together.

"You know that was the first Christmas dinner I've ever had? Except at Hogwarts, of course. I mean a nice family dinner... even if they're not family, your parents are so accommodating."

"I've been sneaking in a good word for you in my letters home," Hermione said with a wink. "I really hope that, one day, they really will see you as family. For now, they're just happy that I've made such a wonderful friend."

"You know you're more than that to me, Hermione." Harry stroked Hermione's new hairdo. He still wasn't quite used to it yet.

"Hopefully, I'll have convinced them enough by the end of the year to take you in for another summer. Maybe you'll never have to see the Dursleys again!"

"You really think they would?" Harry asked, his voice filled with hope. A Dursley-free life would be a better Christmas gift than anything that could be bought in a store.

"I'm sure they will. They were actually pretty happy to have you around last summer already, but they were worried about us getting too close."

"I'm not sure if I want to give... _this_ up just to keep pretending for another summer," Harry said as he squeezed Hermione tighter.

"No, I'd suggest just the opposite. Maybe they'd welcome you more if you showed how much you really love me. It might still mean less kisses and cuddles, so they know it's not just some silly teen romance."

"I guess you're right. I don't know what I'd have to do, though, unless it means jumping in front of lorries every time you cross the street..."

They both laughed as they tried to plan out the rest of their year, until they fell asleep together on the couch in front of the Christmas tree. Harry dreamed of the Grangers adopting him from the Dursleys, while Hermione dreamed of her white knight, stopping buses with his bare hands for her...

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- The inspiration for the dress came from Cho's dress in the movie, actually. I think it was the nicest one there. Obviously, Hermione's isn't going to be Chinese-y.

- I'm actually just as surprised as you probably are that I still haven't managed to get to the Yule Ball yet. I even had a couple more ideas for this chapter but decided to cut it shorter.


	21. The End of the Holidays

**Author's Note:** basically everything is JKR's, anyways.

* * *

**Chapter 21: The End of the Holidays**

Hermione gingerly unwrapped her present. Had it been more carefully wrapped, she could have undone the tape far more easily with her practised method of preserving the wrapping paper. Unfortuantely, Harry had taped it all together hastily yesterday when he saw the car approach, resulting in a gift with far too much tape and extra folds where they shouldn't be. Harry watched her eagerly, while Emma was trying to get clues from her husband, who wasn't giving an inch.

_Riiiiiipppp_ came the sound of tearing paper as Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "Will you finally just open it up, Hermione?" Harry goaded her on.

"Fine," she sighed as she quickly ripped off the paper, revealing a nondescript box inside. As she opened it up, she stared at the contents, speechless for a few seconds, before shutting it again quickly. "Harry! How is this possible? They said they couldn't get another one until..."

"Magic," Harry replied, grinning from ear to ear.

"Harry, tell me! Did they have this one at a different branch? You didn't pay a huge sum of money to get a whole new one made quickly, did you? How did... oh wait, you meant _magic_ magic, didn't you?"

"Hermione, for being the smartest witch ever, I have to wonder how you forget that you are a witch sometimes."

"I usually put my mind off magic while I'm at home, since I can't cast spells anyways. I normally read muggle novels and textbooks while I'm back..." Hermione explained sourly. Her mood didn't last though, as she opened the box once again and held the dress in front of her. "Mum, dad, I'm sorry, but I really want to try this dress on right now. I'll open your gift later!" She ran up to her room, slamming the door behind her.

"Harry, I think this is a good time for you to go to your room and put your dress robes on," Emma said as she nudged him. As Harry left, she said to her husband, "Get the camera."

Only five minutes later, Hermione was already changed and quickly walking down the stairs while quickly combing and tying her hair back into a simple, but elegant, bun that the hairstylist had shown her. "Don't rush, dear, you'll trip!" Emma warned.

"Actually, she probably won't, with that dress. One of the things Harry ordered was some kind of charm that made it easier to walk with it on," Dan explained.

"It fits like a dream, mum! It's so much more comfortable than when I tried it on at the shop! It goes so well with the earrings. Where's Harry?"

"I'm coming!" Harry was slowly walking down the stairs, his eyes and hands on his collar. "How do you tie this thing, anyways?" he asked as he struggled with his bow tie. He looked towards Dan for help, who just shrugged in reply. Emma walked over to him.

"I'm the one who always ties his ties for him," she said. "Honestly! You'd think after almost two decades of marriage he'd learn to do it himself!"

"I'm nothing without you, honey!" Dan tried to appease his wife while he presented Hermione her present. "I think this would be a good time to open our gift to you," he said.

Hermione opened up the small box and hugged her father in delight. "This is perfect!" she cried as she took a necklace out of the box and immediately worked to put it on. Like the earrings, the chain was relatively thin and made of silver. It split into a double chain at the front and each of the two chains each with a sapphire dangling at the middle. There was another set of sapphires at the points where the chains met. It was displayed perfectly in the keyhole opening on Hermione's dress.

"How on earth did you pick that necklace?" Emma asked. "You didn't get to see that dress until yesterday with Harry, right?"

"Lucky guess?" Dan shrugged. He held up the camera. "Let's get some pictures!"

They spent the next hour running around the house, looking for good places to pose. After a few shots in front of the Christmas tree, and another on the couch, a few sitting on the stairs, they started on more staged shots. Dobby quickly whipped up a mock dinner as they sat on opposite ends of the table, there was another with Harry kneeling on the ground as if he was proposing, followed by one where he was holding Hermione in his arms. They even braved the cold outside for a few quick shots of them playing in the snow. Thankfully, the stain-resistant charms did their jobs well, preventing any snow or dirt from tarnishing their new evening wear. By the end of it, they had gone through three rolls of film and were all back in the living room, having a good laugh. Emma had tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Mum? What's the matter?" Hermione asked.

"You have no idea how happy this has been for me... I never thought I'd get the chance to see you like this!"

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother... well, she pretty much imagined your whole life before you were even born," Dan explained. "She would read you books every night before you'd go to bed, and then she would tuck you in and kiss you goodnight. She would take you to swimming lessons, and then piano lessons, and then you'd spend weekends playing together at the park... heck, she practically imagined your whole life up to the point where you got married."

Emma's cheeks were already red from the combination of laughing and crying, but it was obvious now that she was blushing. "Dan! You weren't supposed to tell her!"

"It's just a fun family story! We'll all look back on this one day and laugh." Dan continued, "Well, despite a few setbacks, like how much you hated ballet, you pretty much had the childhood Emma dreamed of giving you. Until we all found out about Hogwarts, that is."

"You can't possibly mean..." Harry started, quick to defend his girlfriend, even from her parents. Hermione was speechless.

"No! We're proud that Hermione has magical talent, and we fully support her. It's just... the little things that we're missing out on," Emma said.

"Your mum wanted to, you know, help you with homework after school, watch you beat out all the others in the maths contests, win first prize at the science fair..."

"...and getting you a dress and meeting your date for your school formal," Emma finished. "I never heard about a school formal for Hogwarts, so I'm guessing this one is special? It's only because there's that tournament this year, right?"

"And Harry," Hermione said, linking her elbow with Harry's. "In fact, I'm guessing the only reason they made it open to fourth-years is because Harry's a fourth-year, otherwise they probably would have kept it for sixth and seventh-years only. That's how it's been traditionally."

"Then I have to thank you again, for making me and my daughter happy," Emma told Harry as she gave him a hug. Harry hugged her back. Between the dinner yesterday and the presents today, it was the best Christmas he could have ever hoped for.

* * *

Several hundred kilometres north inside a castle in Scotland, one red-haired boy was having one of the worst Christmases he could remember. He stared absent-mindedly at an unopened gift sitting at the base of the Gryffindor Christmas tree, already knowing what was inside. It was a hand-knit sweater from his mother... to Harry.

"I take it mum hasn't heard about your little fallout with Harry, has she?" Fred asked Ron.

"You're just lucky she stopped reading Skeeter's articles ever since that woman slandered her favourite author, Emmaline Rickards," George said. "Claimed she was writing all of her romance novels from personal experience."

"And the only reason Ginny hasn't told is because she's hoping Harry might still want to stay over next summer if you two make up..."

"And a Howler from Mum wouldn't help things along those lines."

"So, our dear, littlest brother, what are you going to do about it?"

"Why are you defending him?" argued Ron. "He's the one who got his name into the cup while you two took the blame!"

"Ah, but you don't know the prankster's code," Fred said mysteriously. Ron gave him a blank look.

"After a prank goes wrong, it's every man for himself," George said.

"That's why Lee gets away with helping us so often."

"Not that we mind, we could always use the extra hand every now and then."

"But don't you two always end up in detention together?" Ron asked.

"Only because the teachers can never figure out which one of us is which."

"And they figure if one of us did it, the other had to know, at least."

"So you two aren't even mad that he's up in front of the crowds when it could have been you two?" Ron was completely bewildered by his brothers' attitudes, as he wanted to be the one standing on stage with the crowds cheering for him.

"Ron, get your head out of your arse," George said.

"We just wanted our names in the cup."

"Yeah, we're not stupid enough to try to go toe-to-toe with Krum in a duelling arena."

"We just like a good prank, and we can appreciate one that wasn't done by ourselves."

"Yeah, did you hear the Marauders managed to turn an entire classroom into a swamp? We've got a few ideas to try to one-up them."

"And you'd better stop eating Harry's mince pies."

Ron, who had absentmindedly opened one of the packages from his mother, also failed to look at who it was for. It smelled delicious, and Ron was certainly missing out on a box of chocolate frogs that Harry got him each year. He could do without a homework planner or alarm-calendar from Hermione, but he did miss having something sweet to munch on under the tree on Christmas day. He'd already cleared off half the pies that his mother had sent. As the twins left, he looked back at the box. It wouldn't do to give Harry an opened package with half the contents missing. He wouldn't miss what he didn't know about, would he? Ron shrugged, and picked up another. He was interrupted by Ginny, clearing her throat behind him.

"If you keep being such a slob, you'll never get yourself a date for the ball," Ginny said.

"Why would I want to go? It's just some stupid dance," Ron said, moving the pie towards his mouth again.

"Yeah, just some stupid dance where the stupid Minister of Magic, the stupid Viktor Krum, and the stupid all-star chaser of the English National Quidditch Team, Tavin Macalister, are all going to be there. Oh, and I heard from Percy he's going to be there as well, but he actually is a pompous git."

"What? Macalister's going to be there? What for?" Ron dropped the pie into his lap in shock. That was the star player on Ron's favourite team. In fact, he was quite possibly the only reason people still bothered betting on them, despite their ten-year losing streak. Unfortunately, one chaser's skill didn't make up for the rest of the team's lack of it, especially their seeker, who was quite possibly the weakest in the English league.

"He's going to try to convince Krum to sign on to Chudley Cannons next year. Don't you ever read the newspaper? Even the sports section?"

Ron just shook his head. "Why the Cannons? Krum plays for Bulgaria's national team, doesn't he?"

"His contract ended when he was picked for the tournament. The ball's been the first time people other than the press have been allowed into Hogwarts, so there'll probably be tons of recruiters trying to cozy up to Krum on New Year's Eve. Macalister's the only one I know for sure." Ginny smiled, knowing the setup was complete. Ron would never give up a chance to meet his favourite player of all-time, in person.

"I... I've got to go to the ball, then!"

"You can't go without a date, Ron." Ginny giggled inside, but desperately tried to keep her face in an angry scowl.

"Date? I haven't even got dress robes! What'll I do?" Ron was panicking.

"Don't worry about the robes, I'll just tell mum to send you a set. Just worry about finding yourself a date," Ginny told him. "Oh, and this is just girls' gossip, but I think all the girls from fourth year and most of third year already have dates. You're pretty late to the game. Happy hunting!" She skipped away, leaving Ron to ponder the dilemma of trying to ask a second-year girl to the ball, or taking the once-in-a-lifetime-chance to actually meet his Quidditch hero.

Just outside Gryffindor tower and around the corner from the Fat Lady, Fred and George were waiting.

"How did it go?" George asked.

"Perfect. He soaked up every word I said," Ginny laughed.

"Attagirl, Ginny. He never would have believed us if we told him. Thank goodness you can act." Ginny beamed.

"Except when Harry's around, of course. You can certainly act like a mouse when he's in the room," Fred teased.

"Shut up! I'm getting better with that," Ginny defended herself. She had realized, of course, that she'd have to actually talk to Harry at some point, but the only thing they'd ever done together was nearly die in the Chamber of Secrets, which wasn't exactly common conversation material. Ron was a good excuse for her to get to know Harry, but ever since his jealous break-up with the trio, that had suddenly become a dead end. She did notice Harry talking to the twins far more this year, and getting into the twins' good graces might help her get closer to Harry.

"Have you written to great-uncle Ignatius already?" she asked the twins.

"And his reply. He'll be sending his old dress-robes over by tomorrow," George laughed.

"How ugly are those robes, anyways? You two keep talking about it, but I've never had a chance to see them..." Ginny pouted.

"You were too young to remember, but we were a good seven years old at the time."

"It was uncle Matthias's wedding, and great-uncle Ignatius showed up, wearing this... frilly..." George waved his hand, trying to come up with the right word.

"Rainbow. It was a frilly rainbow."

"We couldn't remember much of the rest of the wedding, because we couldn't take our eyes off that monstrosity."

"It was also why we cried a lot when Mum said we were going to visit him." Both the twins nodded solemnly, causing Ginny to break out in laughter.

* * *

Harry and Hermione waved their goodbyes at King's Cross as they crossed the barrier to platform 9¾. As soon as they passed through, however, they were accosted by Draco and his goons.

"I'll get you for what you did to me on the train, Potter! You'd better watch your back," he spat.

"Huh? What did I do?"

"Don't deny it! It's obvious it was you. I'll have your wand snapped for this!" Draco was fuming.

"No, seriously, what did I do to him?" Harry turned to Hermione to jog his memory. With such a fantastic holiday break, he had put life's little annoyances like Draco Malfoy out of his mind.

"We locked him in his cabin on the train," Hermione reminded him.

"Right!" Harry laughed. "Sorry, Malfoy, I forgot about that. You know you shouldn't try to break into someone else's cabin, don't you? That was just a quick lesson on manners. And unlocking charms. How did you finally get out?"

Draco refused to answer, as it would obviously be embarrassing. "I swear, you'll pay for what you did, Potter."

"But not right now, huh? Too scared to lose in a duel against me _again_, are you, Malfoy? Especially with all these people around here to witness your defeat. A Malfoy, beating a Potter? I've heard better stories from Luna," Harry said loudly, noticing a few people had taken notice of their confrontation- especially one person he really wanted to infuriate.

Draco, with his temper pushed far beyond the boiling point, shouted, "Potter, you'll be the last of your line, I'll make sure-" He was drawing his wand, but was quickly stopped with by a hand on his shoulder. Draco turned to see his father, who had a very unhappy look on his face.

"Draco, may I remind you that you are _not_ the head of the Malfoy House, and you do _not_ have the authority to declare a blood feud against the Potter House. I won't have you sullying the family name." Harry snickered as Draco looked at his father in horror. He quickly pushed past, noticing Lucius was keeping his eye on him until he was on the train.

"Harry, you made yourself a really powerful enemy just now, do you realize that?" Hermione nearly shouted at him as she locked and warded the door behind them.

"He's always been my enemy, now he just knows that I know," Harry shrugged. "At the very least, he won't be able to touch me for the rest of the year. I'm pretty certain he's going to be one of Voldemort's top lieutenants or something once he makes his return..."

"Still, you shouldn't have made yourself a target for him. We don't want to stir up anything too early. Don't be in such a rush to reveal your hand, you know?"

"Actually, I was thinking the opposite. All we've got left from the trips we made with the first beacon are indistinct feelings and memories. I want to shake things up and see who's really on our side as quickly as possible so that, next time around, we'll know right away who are friends and enemies are."

"You mean like Ron? And Moody?"

Harry nodded. "Well, Ron's not a big deal, he's just being childish. Maybe we can get Moody out from the Imperius right away next time so I won't have to be in the tournament. Some other people I'm not too sure about. I'm getting a bad feeling about Lucius Malfoy, but I'm not sure if it's just because he's as big of a git as Draco is, or if he really is someone to watch out for in the upcoming war."

"You know he was a former Death Eater, right?"

"Yeah, but look at it this way- right now, he pretty much picked up all the pieces that Voldemort dropped. Does he really want to give up all that power and wealth he has now? As soon as he comes back, Voldy will probably just demand that he hand over some money. Heck, he might even fight against Voldemort, even if it's for purely selfish reasons."

They spent the remainder of the train ride discussing who might be potential allies or enemies. They felt they could trust all the teachers at Hogwarts, save Snape, and post-Imperius Moody. Their impression of French magical culture, based on the Beauxbatons delegation, at least, made them feel that France might help against Voldemort. Blood purity wasn't an issue, and even mixed blood like Fleur or Madame Maxime was perfectly acceptable. Durmstrang was an amalgam of students from Eastern Europe, and Karkaroff was a former Death Eater. They respected power- and Voldemort had power. Most of them were hard to predict. Karkaroff only repented because he feared Azkaban- would he turn back to Voldemort? Krum seemed very interested in becoming as powerful as possible, but he also had a strong sense of fair play, possibly from being a professional athlete. He did skirt the rules as much as he possibly could- would he see Voldemort as a challenge to his own power, or go to him to learn how to become more powerful?

Throughout the ride, they heard the door handle jiggle every so often. As they pulled into the station, Harry chuckled, "Well, since their unlocking charms are still just limited to _Alohamora_, I guess it took a while for an adult to find them and let them out last time."

"You think they're waiting to ambush us?" Hermione asked.

"Without a doubt," Harry said. They couldn't see anyone outside the cabin through the charmed glass, but it didn't mean they weren't hiding in the next cabin, ready to jump out. "I say we go in the opposite direction just in case. They'd probably expect us to go left to exit the train, and want to hit us from behind. I'll take the front."

"Why you? I can hold a perfectly decent shield, you know."

"Yeah, but I want to try something I learned from Krum."

"He taught you something?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"Fine, I didn't learn from him, I'm just copying him," Harry answered.

They both waited as long as they could for the other students to clear out of the train, and quickly moved towards the exit on the opposite side. Hermione held her shield up behind her as Harry kept his wand out. The door four cabins down burst open and Malfoy leapt out with his wand in hand and several others followed suit. _"Expelliarmus!"_ the Slytherin shouted.

_Disarming charm? Really? _Harry thought to himself as he poured as much energy as he could into his own spell as he shouted, "_Protego Progresso!"_ He still wasn't able to cast the shield spell Krum had used against him silently, being much more complex. It was certainly a powerful spell which, normally, would only be useful in a one-on-one duel, but against three people in a crowded corridor, it was just as good. The shield swept forward, pushing Draco and his two goons back and crushing them against the back of the train. Harry quickly released the spell, partly because he didn't want to crush Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle to death, but mostly because he was quickly feeling drained. "Wow, now that's quite a spell. How on earth did Krum managed to cast three of these in a row? With a Bone-Bludgeoner in between?"

Hermione peeked around Harry's shoulder at the crumpled heap of green robes. "Well, first off, I think Krum is more powerful than you for sure, but I also think you put way too much power into your spell this time," she said.

Thinking it was best not to walk right past them in case they woke up, they turned around again and headed out the other exit of the train. Just as they were about to step off, Harry heard a muffled groan and turned to see Malfoy rolling Goyle away. "You think you've won, Potter?" he snarled as he pulled his wand out from underneath the chubby oaf and pointed it at Harry. "_Tereburere!"_

Whatever the spell was supposed to do, it certainly wasn't what Malfoy had intended. In his haste, he hadn't noticed his wand had a small crack and was slightly bent. Instead of flying straight out from the wand, it seemed to spiral out and dissipate mid-flight, while some of it seemed to "leak" out of the crack, causing the wand itself to smoke slightly. Furious, he cried out, "You'll pay for what you did to my wand, Potter! My..." He stopped himself short of saying his trademark line.

"You know, I somehow suspect your father won't like hearing about this. I'm pretty sure that, whatever he told you back at King's Cross, it wasn't to try to ambush Harry Potter and get your own wand broken," Harry laughed. "Maybe _I'll _write to your father and let him know." Draco looked horrified as he quickly stumbled out the rear exit of the train, while Harry and Hermione decided to take their time, strolling from Hogsmeade to the castle instead of taking the carriages.

* * *

Professor Snape was waiting for them when they arrived. Having spent the last two months skipping out on Potions and studying on his own, he wasn't glad to see the greasy professor in front of him once again. The stress-free learning environment, Hermione's advice, and vague memories of having brewed the potions before helped him get through nearly all of the fourth-year's coursework by the end of first term. He wondered how that would reflect on Snape's teaching skills. For now, however, Snape was going to address him as the head of Slytherin House, not as potions professor.

"Potter! You've crossed the line this time. Even your father wasn't stupid enough to snap another wizard's wand. I'll have you expelled for attacking three of my students and your own wand snapped!" Snape shouted.

"Well, I can't say I didn't see this coming," Harry said nonchalantly.

"So you admit that you broke Mr. Malfoy's wand, then? Evidently you are a true Gryffindor, acting before you think and proudly proclaiming your imbecilic stunts to the world. We'll have you pay for a new wand for Draco as well," Snape sneered, thinking he had caught Harry's confession.

"I'll take this one, Harry," Hermione said. "Actually, Professor Snape, both magical law and the Hogwarts rules agree that Harry was well within his rights to defend himself."

"You're trying to convince me that snapping someone's wand is an act of _defense_, Granger? What insipid book did you pull that idea from? Even Longbottom mind isn't so feeble that he would try that as an excuse. Now, Potter, you will hand over your wand immediately."

"No he won't," Hermione interrupted, keeping herself calm in spite of Snape's insult. "You haven't even heard Harry's side of the story, yet. You can't confiscate a student's wand without evidence of his guilt in a serious magical offense."

"I have all the evidence I need," Snape said as he moved towards Harry.

"Yeah, we all know that all the evidence you need is for Malfoy to whine about how he's not getting his way. I don't know why I'm bothering with you. I'm going to take this to Professor Dumbledore," Harry boldly said as he pushed past his former potions professor.

"Professor Dumbledore is at a Triwizard meeting. If you're looking for him to save you, he's not available."

"Fine, then, let's take this to professor McGonagall."

"As deputy Headmistress, she is also at the meeting. Face it, Potter, you're going to have to deal with me."

"Actually," Hermione piped up again, "For matters outside the classroom, another professor is allowed to arbitrate in disagreements between a professor and a student in matters involving detention over one week, house point deductions over fifty, and, of course, expulsion and wand confiscation as you mentioned before."

"Let's take this to Professor Moody," Harry said immediately. He could tell Snape was terrified of the ex-Auror. Hurrying towards the Defense professor's office, they left Snape chasing after them. While keeping up a quick-paced jog, he said to Hermione, "Have I told you how much I love you, lately?"

"I think the last time you said it was about five minutes before we got to the castle, Harry," Hermione giggled.

"That was brilliant back there. Thank you so much," Harry said.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while, Harry. You're so lucky you're in the tournament, getting to skip his class and all. He's been picking on me in your place, I think, but he's having a harder time of it because I always brew the potions correctly."

Harry laughed. "Why don't you drop the class too? At the pace we're going, we could be ready for OWLs by the end of this year. Being in Snape's class holds you back, you know."

"Yes, but it'll show up on my grades if I don't do the assignments. And I still need to take the exams."

"Still, I'd love to take the potions OWL a year early if it means I don't have to deal with Snape any more."

They arrived at Moody's office and knocked on the door. Snape caught up to them just as Moody opened the door. "Mr. Potter. What can I do for you?" he asked. His magical eye swivelled towards Snape. "Having some problems with Death Eaters, son?"

"I... have been acquitted..." Snape said stiffly. "This is a Hogwarts matter, _Professor_ Moody," he stressed.

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. Maybe if you're willing to chop off your own left arm I'd be more inclined to believe your story. Albus might forgive you, but not everyone's so kind. Now what are you doing with Mr. Potter here?"

"Professor, we need you to arbitrate a disagreement we're having with Professor Snape. He wants to confiscate Harry's wand and maybe expel him."

"He also refuses to listen to my side of the story," Harry added.

"And whose side is he trusting instead?"

"Malfoy's."

Moody let out a low, animalistic growl while staring at Snape with both eyes. It was only then that Harry noticed Moody had had his wand pointed at Snape the entire time. "So, _Professor_ Snape, taking the side of your comrade's son, eh? Still associating with the old crowd, I see. Maybe I should haul you down to the DMLE right now for another night in front of the mirror?"

Harry didn't know what mirror Moody was talking about, but Snape gave a barely perceptible shudder as he replied, "May I remind you that I am not the one on trial here, Professor Moody, and you are no longer an auror."

"Right then, lad. Tell me what happened."

"Basically, during the train trip, Draco tried to break into our cabin several times. He obviously failed," Harry explained as gave a knowing smile to Moody, who taught many of those spells, straight out of the auror's handbook. "At the end of the trip, we guessed he would try to ambush us, which he did. And failed in that, as well."

"You seem to have conveniently left out the part where you snapped his wand," Snape spat, barely holding in his anger.

"Because I didn't. I just cast a shield charm and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle fell down. I think it was Goyle who snapped Malfoy's wand, by falling on it. Or maybe Malfoy broke it himself when he pulled it out from under Goyle." Harry shrugged.

"You're saying a _shield charm_ knocked them over? Preposterous." Snape glared hatefully at Harry.

"Never big on actually collecting evidence, are you, Severus? No wonder we were losing the last war, with such a shoddy spy working for us... if you really were on our side, that is. There's a very simple solution for this. Potter, give me your wand."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked cautiously. While he definitely trusted Moody more than Snape, he didn't want to let his wand out of his reach without a very good reason.

"Good to know you're learning, boy. I'm going to cast _Priori Incantato, _which will show the last few spells cast by your wand." Harry handed over his wand, and the spell revealed the Pushing Shield spell, followed by a few locking spells he had used in the cabin.

"That's it? You only cast locking spells on your cabin?" Moody growled.

"Hermione cast the privacy and detection wards," Harry explained quickly, amused that Moody was taking a keener interest in Harry's DADA skills than dealing with Snape.

"Good. Well, Severus, it seems like Harry here did only cast a shield charm. Now I have to ask why Harry needed to cast it in the first place."

"Well, Malfoy opened up with a disarming charm, and I countered with the shield. After he fell over, he tried casting another spell with his broken wand, but it didn't come out right. What does _Tereburere_ do?"

Moody glared at Snape with both the fury and delight of a predator capturing its prey. "So did you teach him that spell, or did his father? Your little pupil tries to murder someone with a dark spell and you try to get the _victim_ expelled? We're going down to the dungeons, and good thing we _do _have on-duty aurors on the grounds thanks to the tournament, eh? Potter, you're free to go." Moody marched Snape away at wandpoint after he ushered the teens out the door.

* * *

They entered Gryffindor Tower to see everyone in the common room drop what they were doing and stare. Surprisingly, Ron was the first to break the silence. He walked up to Harry and handed over the Christmas gift from his mother. Looking down in shame, he said, "I'm sorry I've been a bit of a git to you two," he said quietly.

"Now there's an understatement," Hermione snorted.

"I... um... I couldn't think of a way to make it up to both of you, but since Harry might get expelled, I was thinking I could take you to the ball instead?" he asked Hermione.

_Bad news travels fast in this castle, doesn't it? _thought Harry. "I'm not getting expelled, Ron, but Draco might be. I'm taking Hermione to the ball," he said.

"But... but... I have to go with Hermione! We've known each other for years!" Ron protested.

"I've known her for as long as you have, Ron, and I do have the advantage of being her boyfriend."

"I know, but you could find a date with any girl you want in the whole school! There's... nobody else I can go with!" Ron's so-called "favour" for Hermione was quickly becoming a favour for himself.

"And out of the whole school, I'd pick Hermione," Harry said with finality, to end the argument.

"Excuse me, boys, but did it ever occur to you to ask for _my_ opinion on all this?" Hermione glared at Ron, but elbowed Harry as well. "Even if Harry _was_ expelled, I would rather not go to the ball at all than go without Harry. He found the perfect dress for me, I got him his dress shoes, and we took pictures together with my family."

"Is that why you got your hair cut?" Parvati shouted out.

"You got a haircut?" Ron asked, staring at Hermione.

"You didn't even notice? Ron, we've hung out together for years, and now that half of Hermione's hair is gone and you can't see the difference?"

"This is why I could never go to the ball with you, Ron. You never pay enough attention... to anything, really. Me, Harry, your homework, everything! Harry, on the other hand, remembered exactly what I wanted and bought my dress for me. He remembered the one dress I liked the best out of dozens that I tried on, and then had it to a dressmaker to make it even better."

"So that's it? You're going with Harry because he bought your dress for you? You know I'd never be able to afford stuff like Harry does, is that it?" Ron was practically glowing red in anger as he stormed off to his room.

Harry was left speechless, while Hermione just shook her head, saying, "Ugh. That's exactly what I was talking about. Why did he even want to go with me anyways? He had the entire holiday to ask a girl at Hogwarts!"

"Allow us to explain," Fred said, with the George and Ginny grinning behind him. "Although it might have been funnier if you agreed to go with him, but we didn't expect you accept, so we do have a backup plan."

"Our dear little Ronniekins has never had much experience with the fairer sex," George explained.

"Apart from Ginny, Mum, Aunt Muriel, and maybe Luna, Hermione's probably the only girl he's ever said more than five words to in his whole life," Fred continued.

"And with Luna, half those words were usually 'loony,' so she probably doesn't count."

"So, quite literally, you're the only one he could even think of asking to the ball."

"He might have even thought that you had feelings for him," Ginny offered meekly.

"What? How on earth did he get that idea? We argue all the time!" Hermione's mouth hung open in confusion.

"He probably thought you enjoyed it. I mean, you do get into some pretty heated arguments with Harry, too," Ginny explained.

"There's a world of difference between arguments and debates, you know. Harry actually listens to what I say even if he completely disagrees with me. I try to get an idea into Ron's thick skull, and he just insults me and calls me barmy until we can't stand to talk to each other any more."

"I'm not sure if he knows the difference," Fred said.

"Well, what would have happened if I did agree to go with him? And why does he want to go so badly anyways? There's no way Ron's interested in fine dining and dancing."

"Well, we have to thank Ginny for the idea."

"She's the one who decided Ron needed to be taught a lesson, and writing to mum simply wouldn't do the job properly."

"So we decided to take it upon ourselves to teach our brother a lesson."

"We were just going to slip some of our test products into his food for a few days, nothing special, really."

"But Ginny here comes up with a plan to make Ron desperate to get himself into the New Year's Ball," Fred said proudly, patting his little sister on the back. Ginny gave a shy smile to Harry, who was curious to hear more. "Anyways, she pulled off this perfect act about how Ron's favourite Quidditch star would be there, so now he's going to make a fool of himself trying to get a date... in less than forty hours."

"And if, by some miracle, he _does_ find a girl desperate enough to go with him, he'll be wearing our great-uncle's dress robes," George laughed.

"What's wrong with his robes?" Harry asked.

"Well, apart from being about a century out of date, they're about ten times as ugly as the stuff Dumbledore wears," Ginny finally spoke up again.

Harry chuckled. "You know, you guys didn't have to do this for us. We're fine just letting him be."

"Oh no, Harry, this isn't for you. If a Weasley acts out of line, we normally get an earful from our mother. Since he hasn't got the stones to tell mum what he did, we've taken it upon ourselves to give him what he deserves. Consider it an internal family matter. You two just have fun on New Year's Eve."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- When's the last time any of you had to deal with a roll of film? Man, I almost accidentally wrote the Grangers taking pictures with a digital camera.

- I thought I'd get to the beginning of the Ball by this chapter, but then I realized there were quite a few loose ends I opened up a few chapters ago that I forgot to deal with, including Malfoy.

- hoping Malfoy will actually be expelled, or Snape fired, would be entirely too optimistic.


	22. Two Left Feet

**Author's Note: **The Yule Ball belongs to JKR. Technically the New Year's Ball does too.

* * *

**Chapter 22: Two Left Feet**

Harry waited at in the common room, watching the stairs to the girls' dorms. He fiddled with his bow tie, undoing and re-tying it over and over as he waited anxiously. Beside him stood several other Gryffindor boys. Most of them were simply getting bored of waiting for the girls. He saw some green fabric appear at the top of the steps. Slowly making her way down was Ginny Weasley. Dean got up and said, "Well, there's my date. See you all downstairs."

A few minutes later, Lavender appeared in a dress of that colour. In Harry's opinion, it was somewhat garish, covered in sequins and far too shiny. The skirt was multi-layered and poofy, much like a fairy-tale princess's. Lavender herself had the reddest lipstick Harry had ever seen, along with bright blue mascara. She giggled as she passed Harry, "You're in for a surprise tonight, Potter!" She linked arms with Cormac McLaggen as they left the tower. Harry continued to wait.

Just after the Fat Lady closed the entrance after Lavender, he saw a slim dress of shocking pink appear at the top of the stairs. Parvati was making her way down in a dress that was styled after an Indian sari. "You're going to love what we've done with Hermione," she said as she passed by. Harry noticed that, although she hadn't been as excessive as Lavender with her makeup, she did concentrate on her eyes with hers. She had decorated her eyes with both black and gold eyeliner to the point where they looked like those of a nyx. She left Gryffindor tower alone, presumably to meet up with her date. Apparently her sister had set her up with some fifth-year boy in Ravenclaw.

_What did she mean by what they did with Hermione?_ thought Harry. _The way those two operate, Hermione might be coming down with a clown face for all I know._ He worried more and more every minute. Staring at the clock on the wall, they had another five minutes until the ball began. The only people left in the common room aside from Harry were the ones who weren't interested in going to the ball anyway. _Where was Hermione?_ Harry fretted.

With three minutes to go, Hermione quickly rushed down the stairs. She had her hair done up far more elegantly than back at home, in a tight bun that was presumably held together by magic, because Harry couldn't figure out how it could stay that way. She left the ends of her hair deliberately loose around the bun, so it had a little playful messiness to it. It was a far cry from Hermione's old, too-much-hair-to-manage messiness. Thankfully, she kept her makeup to a minimum- just some eyeliner and lip gloss, along with some dark nail polish. With her dress and jewellery, Harry was awestruck. He scolded himself for never imagining that Hermione could be this beautiful.

"Ugh! I'm going to _kill_ Lavender and Parvati!" Hermione huffed in the most unladylike manner. "Come on, Harry, we're going to be late!" She grabbed Harry in his dazed state, nearly causing him to fall over.

"What did they do? Are they the reason why you're late?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Hermione hissed. "They wouldn't stop trying to dress me up like a doll and giving advice on how to catch boys like fish at the ball. As if I needed anyone's attention other than yours! I ended up having to wash off everything they did and redoing everything myself."

"So you managed all this in only ten minutes after Parvati left?" Harry was impressed.

"Yes! And this is why I ended up with such a... bland look. I'm sorry, Harry, I really wanted this to be special..."

"Don't worry, Hermione. You're looking even better than I could have imagined."

As they were scurrying down the many flights of stairs, they heard a hooting from above. Kerris, being led by Hedwig, were flying through the castle and landed gently on the banisters beside Harry and Hermione. Kerris proudly stuck out her leg, bearing a small note, a wrist-band corsage for Hermione and a matching boutonniere for Harry. They were freshly made from the Flumpet that Dan had bought during Harry's shopping trip. Thanking their owls, they continued down, reading the note along the way.

_Dear Hermione and Harry_

_I hope the flowers reach you in time for the ball. Dan nearly forgot about it and we had them done this afternoon. I just hope Kerris didn't tire herself out rushing all the way out to Scotland for you. We got the pictures developed and we'll send copies along next time. I hope you can find someone to take pictures for you as well. We'd love to have photos of you dancing your hearts out._

_Love,_

_Emma and Dan_

Hermione slipped hers on her wrist as Harry affixed his to his lapel. Grinning, they knew they were finally ready- with one minute on the clock and the doors of the Great Hall in sight. Everyone was milling about, waiting for the doors to open. Harry had never seen such a sea of colours among the students- usually it was just a lot of black with bits of red, green, blue, and gold. Now, on the girls at least, were dresses of every colour and fabric. Some of the Durmstrang girls had even taken to wearing fur, while most of the French girls tended to choose more daring sheerer fabrics with generous amounts of skin showing. Most of the Hogwarts students had taken to wearing more traditional dresses that nearly reached the floor and made with layers of heavier fabrics. There was the occasional girl who tried something a little more unique, like Parvati. The boys all wore black dress robes- except for two, who stuck out like a sore thumb. Harry laughed as he pointed them out to Hermione. "I hope Angelina and Katie aren't too miffed about their dates' fashion sense."

Off to the side, Harry could notice a cordoned-off area with nearly a hundred journalists and photographers packed like sardines, trying to get as close as they can to the crowds. The champions were happy to be able to keep their distance, while some other students gladly walked towards them, letting the photographers snap their pictures. "I forgot the map!" Harry suddenly said aloud.

"Why do we need it now?" Hermione asked.

"I wanted to find Rita Skeeter, so I could at least know what she looks like," Harry explained.

"Forget about her tonight, Harry. Let's just have fun," Hermione said. "I'll keep an eye out for her during the Trial of Water."

They approached the other champions, who were allowed their own area opposite to the press. Interestingly enough, there were only three couples. "Hello Fleur," Harry greeted the witch. "I see you managed to snag Cedric."

"Hey yourself, Harry," Cedric said in reply. "It's not as if she had to try very hard. Who could possibly resist a beautiful, intelligent, talented, half-Veela girl like her?"

"Harry could," Fleur laughed.

"Because I've got Hermione," Harry explained.

"Did you know that, out of the one hundred and sixty-eight Triwizard Tournaments ever held, only six times have two of the champions chosen each other for the Yule ball? You two will be the center of attention this evening," Hermione told them.

"Zat is not a problem for me," Fleur said as she pulled off some kind of wandless Veela magic, making her skin sparkle.

"You know, if you keep doing that, I might end up falling over you this evening. I can only resist you so much, Fleur," Cedric said.

Krum had stayed silent the entire time. Interestingly, he had chosen a Beauxbaton girl for a date- Harry didn't recognize her, as she wasn't one of the girls with Fleur he had met on his trip to Hogsmeade after the duels. She was far shorter than Krum, the top of her head only reaching Krum's shoulder. It seemed that the gruff, burly Durmstrang champion liked quiet, dainty girls. All of the Durmstrang women were clearly as tough as the men. Oddly enough, that made Harry and Hermione the only couple out of the three where both were from the same school. All six of them made small talk for another few minutes after the doors to the Great Hall opened and all the other students made their way inside.

"We're supposed to go in last- and open up with a dance right away, even before the speeches and announcements," Cedric explained. "You got here just after Bagman told us."

"Yes, one event where ve can do something before the old men talk," Krum muttered.

Harry, in all the rush to get to the ball on time, was suddenly reluctant to enter. He whispered to Hermione, "I think we forgot something on our to-do list."

"You mean dancing lessons? Harry, this is going to be a disaster!" Hermione was panicking. She wasn't used to being so unprepared for anything.

"Calm down... um... just be careful where you step, we'll just do... something."

"Easy for you to say! You're not wearing high heels with open toes! I've barely gotten used to walking in these shoes, never mind dancing!"

They kept bickering under their breaths as they followed the other champions into the Great Hall, whereupon they both stiffened up immediately. They both put on nervous smiles as they glanced around, seeing applauding students surrounding them. Up ahead, Fleur had once again put on her "publicity" persona and was strutting confidently to the dance floor with Cedric in tow. Krum held himself in a serious, dignified manner behind them. "So, would you rather act like Fleur and Cedric, or Krum and Dominique?" Harry whispered.

"Neither, I'd rather we just do our own thing," Hermione said.

"So let's," Harry said as he linked arms with his date. "I'm just happy that I get to... try to dance with you tonight. We should just ignore everyone else and enjoy our night together, shouldn't we?"

"Splendid idea, Mr. Potter," Hermione giggled, taking her eyes away from the crowd to smile at Harry. They both calmed down a little as they approached the dance floor. He glanced over his shoulder. Fleur and Cedric were standing together. His right hand was on her upper back, and his left hand held up her right out to the side. Fleur's left hand was resting on Cedric's shoulder. Harry and Hermione quickly copied them. The opening dance music was performed by the Hogwarts Music Club. They chose a smooth song ideal for a foxtrot, although Harry and Hermione didn't know that. Fleur and Cedric immediately began an elegant but energetic dance, matching the beat perfectly as they glided across the dance floor. Krum and his date settled for a more subdued dance and moved around less vigorously. Harry and Hermione took a good minute figuring out whether they wanted to go left or right.

"You know, if we've really done this several times over, I had hoped some of this might come to me naturally," Harry said.

"Well, if we danced horribly every single time, then dancing horribly would definitely come naturally to us," Hermione said glumly. "Ow! Harry, aren't you listening to the music?" she cried out as Harry accidentally stepped on her toes.

"Sorry, Hermione!" Harry winced. They both slowed down and settled for swaying back and forth on the spot. "How do they do that?" He wondered aloud as Fleur and Cedric passed by them. "It's like they can read each other's minds!"

"That's it! Harry, just concentrate on what you're going to do, but put it outside of your occlumency shields."

Harry could see what Hermione was about to attempt. He concentrated on taking short side-steps to the left, and felt Hermione perform some light legilimency on him. As he stepped, Hermione went in the opposite direction at the exact same time.

"Whoops! I forgot I have to do the opposite of what you're doing," Hermione said sheepishly. "Let's try that again."

This time, Harry took a few steps to the right and Hermione followed perfectly. Feeling a little more confident, he began changing direction, going left and right, and she matched his every step. "I think this is working. You're brilliant, Hermione!"

"Follow the beat! You're ignoring the music right now!" Hermione was clearly excited that they might actually be able to pull it off. Harry sped up a little to match the music as they could now move in all four directions. When Harry caught a glimpse of some of the more complicated moves that Fleur and Cedric were pulling off, though, Hermione stumbled a bit. "Harry! I can't do that!"

"What? I'm sorry, I was thinking about too much." Harry concentrated on Hermione and their simple little dance, moving in a boxy pattern in the four cardinal directions. Towards the end, they managed to perform a few simple turns so that they weren't always facing the same way, but the song ended before they could get used to it.

"Well, one minute of actual dancing out of seven isn't too bad," Harry laughed.

"It is if you're the one with your toes exposed," grumbled Hermione. "But I wouldn't mind dancing again after a bit of rest."

As they walked off the dance floor, Neville and Luna greeted them. "I'm so glad you two got to dance together this time! And you're both wearing Flumpet Cupflowers! That's such a good idea. You don't want to get a nargle infection during the middle of a dance. After all, what would happen if they stole your rhythm from you?" Luna exclaimed.

"Hello, Luna... what do you mean, 'this time?'" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure, but the Blibbering Humdingers told me it was much better than your first dance with the pink and brown one. Do you think they mean Parvati?" Luna asked.

"Uhh, I'm not sure if I ever danced with her," Harry said. If he had, it was a completely forgettable experience. Leaning in to Luna, he whispered, "Luna... do you remember what happens when I win the Triwizard cup?"

Luna looked at him the way that others often looked at her. "I can't remember what hasn't happened yet, Harry. You're weird." The irony of Luna calling him weird was not lost on him. Hermione decided it was better to change the subject.

"So, Luna, you know about this plant? I couldn't figure out what it was. Does it really protect against nargles?" Hermione turned to their resident botanist with a grin.

"I don't remember seeing that kind of flower in any of my books," Neville said. "Have you got the plant itself? I'd love to take a look and maybe grow one of my own."

"It's at home," Hermione said. "My dad bought it with Harry at some odd florist in Unifer's Alley."

"Oh... maybe this summer, then? anyway, have you got any advice on how to dance? You two seemed to learn really quickly."

Hermione grinned. "Well, I was reading Harry's mind with legilimency while he just concentrated on what steps he was about to take." Looking back and forth at Luna and Neville, she added, "I think it's best if Luna does the reading."

"Oh, I was so ready to let Neville inside of me, too," Luna pouted. Neville nearly spilled his drink.

Harry and Hermione took their seats at the champions' table, ready to begin their dinner. The rest of the guests made their way to their tables, eager to see the party under way. The guests were to another round of speeches by the headmaster for each school as well as Bartemius Crouch. Harry eyed the man carefully, the first time he'd seen him since the unveiling of the Goblet of Fire several months ago. Harry was itching to talk to the man, but decided to save it for later in the night. There was no point in ruining the night for everyone else if things did go sour. Hermione was keeping her eye on Cornelius Fudge. Both of them distrusted him strongly and were sure he had quite an important role to play in the future.

As the food arrived, Harry was about to dig in greedily when Hermione nudged him with her knee. "What?" he asked.

"Wrong fork," Hermione said. "Start with the salad fork."

"Huh?"

"The one on the left!" she whispered. Harry put down the one he was holding and exchanged it for the smaller fork before he began on his salad appetizer.

"You know, all these rules about fine dining really take the joy out of eating such delicious food," Harry jokingly complained.

"Don't tell me you're going to gorge yourself like Ron," Hermione huffed, straightening up. "anyway, how often do we get to do this, anyway?"

"Maybe once every time we go back through the beacon?" he whispered into her ear.

Hermione giggled. "I expect to be taken to a nice dinner and dance more often than that, Harry."

"I'll remember that," he replied.

The dinner was a light three-course meal, which let everyone finish quickly without feeling too stuffed to dance afterwards. Afterwards, food and drink was available for those who wanted to keep eating, but the tables were mostly cleared for those who simply wanted to mingle and converse. The Hogwarts Music Club had left the stage while the guests were eating, making way for the guest band of the night, the Weird Sisters. Harry and Hermione both noticed that, while they used classical orchestral instruments like cellos, violins, and piano, the music they played was far more upbeat and better for the younger guests, making the ball more like a rock concert. With the smaller group playing the music, Harry finally noticed how the magical instruments filled the entire hall evenly with sound without being too loud for anyone, even those sitting directly in front of the stage. Seeing that nearly everyone was distracted with dancing, food, or conversation, he decided that it would be the perfect time to try a private chat with Mr. Crouch.

"Excuse me, Mr. Crouch, could I have a word?" Harry asked when he approached the officials' table. He began with some very light legilimency, just in case Crouch had enough occlumency training to detect him.

"Why, if it isn't Harry Potter. I'd be glad to have a chat with you. What do you want to know?"

"Has there been any progress in finding out who may have put my name into the cup?" Harry started with a relatively innocuous question.

"I'm sorry, I haven't heard anything new. The investigation isn't my department's concern, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you should speak to Auror Shacklebolt instead." That wasn't a lie, Harry could feel. He could sense that Crouch had some basic mental shields but wasn't actively concentrating on them now. Not wanting to put the man on his guard, Harry kept his legilimency at the lowest levels.

"I was hoping you might have heard something they didn't. They did say the suspect was probably a master enchanter. Do you know anyone who is one?"

"No," was Crouch's reply. That was a lie. _Damn, couldn't he say more than that? How can I keep questioning him without sounding accusing?_

"Really? I thought a man of your position may have met a few..." Harry said in a disappointed tone. He did his best trying to play the guilt card, but it seemed like Crouch was immune to it.

"Mr. Potter, the person who subverted the Goblet of Fire is a criminal. Before I became the head of the International Cooperation, I spent decades putting criminals into Azkaban. If I knew any enchanters who operated illegally, they'd be rotting in a cell by now." Crouch's bold statements were rather odd to Harry. They were more than just truthful statements, he could feel that Crouch firmly believed in catching and punishing the criminals- but why did the last sentence feel completely different?

"Could any of them have escaped?"

"Nobody can escape Azkaban... oh, right, Sirius Black," Crouch corrected himself. "I can assure you, Mr. Potter, that Black was no enchanter. He was little more than a loose cannon. Good with his wand, but too undisciplined to ever try learning something that took as much time and patience as enchanting." Harry was getting frustrated. The first sentence was a lie- even before Crouch made the excuse of Sirius. He was covering something up, but what was it? Harry was almost tempted to just let loose and tear his way through Crouch's mind to find his answers, but with Aurors and the Minister of Magic himself present, that would be worse than foolish.

While trying to think of his next question, he was distracted by roars of laughter behind him. He spun around to see Ron Weasley at the door, with one of the first-year Gryffindor girls, who was wearing her standard school robes. She obviously hadn't planned on coming to the ball. He was wearing one of the ugliest robes Harry had ever seen. He didn't think it was possible to have the colours clash that badly- the tailor must have been colourblind or else had done it deliberately. It was striped purple and red- mostly. The collar and cuffs were lined with frilly green lace, and the buttons were a shiny, bright blue. It was topped off with an orange cravat. Ron was wearing proper black shoes, but with the suit, he may as well have worn red slippers and it wouldn't have made it any worse. The sight of it made Harry lose track of what he was going to say to Crouch next.

Ron looked immediately to the officials' and VIP table, searching for his idol amongst the dinner guests. He made a beeline for Harry when he couldn't see the Chudley Cannons star, leaving his "date" standing at the entrance of the Great Hall. "Harry! Have you seen Tavin Macalister tonight? I heard he was supposed to be here!"

"What? Why would he be here? This is a Triwizard event, not some kind of Quidditch party, you know."

"Shows how much you know, eh?" Ron said smugly. "How's it feel to be left out of the loop, Harry? Don't worry, I forgive you. I'll get you an autograph too once I find him." He found his next target, Krum, thinking that would lead him to his prize.

Fred, George, and Ginny hauled Harry away from Crouch, laughing like mad. "I can't believe he actually went through with it!" Fred said, wiping a tear from his face.

"That girl over there is probably the bravest firstie I've ever seen. She does Gryffindor proud," George said.

"That doesn't stop her from being scared to death with none of her friends around. That poor girl! And she has nobody to dance with!" Hermione said as she approached them.

"I'll keep her company," Ginny said. "It seems Dean is more interested in the food than in me." Harry looked around for his roommate, and spotted him chatting with some other Gryffindors, still snacking on food at the table. He didn't seem all that concerned about Ginny.

"So any bets on how long it'll take Ronnie to figure it out?" Fred asked as he watched Ron approach Krum with a parchment and quill in hand. He appeared to be interrupting a private moment between Dominique and Krum, who seemed to be hitting it off.

"Oi! That little French one's feisty!" George exclaimed as the parchment went up in flames. Krum's date followed up by dousing the flames with her drink, leaving Ron sopping wet. Even Krum seemed to be surprised by her outburst.

"I wonder if he'll still fawn over _Vicky Krum_ after that," Fred laughed.

"Will you two stop laughing at your brother and give _us_ a little attention?" Angelina had crept up behind them, giving Fred a hard pinch on his neck. Katie was right behind her, equally annoyed. The two girls dragged the twins off into the crowd.

Finally alone, Hermione pulled Harry to a quieter corner of the hall, asking him, "Did you find out anything about Crouch?"

"He's not the one who put my name in, but he's hiding something. I couldn't figure out any more without accusing him of casting the Imperius on Moody in front of everyone."

"What do you mean, he's hiding something?"

"I think he knows who it is, but he doesn't want to admit it? I think it has to be an escaped convict. I got the most conflicted feelings from him when I asked about criminals who were enchanters."

"But Sirius is the only one who's ever escaped from Azkaban," Hermione said, puzzled. "I mean, if anyone else did then it would be all over the papers again."

"What else can I do? He's had occlumency training. If I pushed any harder he'd probably throw me in Azkaban himself," Harry sighed. "Oh, I forgot to mention, he used to be an auror or something. He said something about catching criminals himself. Did you know that?"

"So maybe he was lying about a criminal he caught himself?" Hermione sighed. "We can't get at the court records from school. This might have to wait until summer, when we can visit the Ministry ourselves."

"Put that on our to-do list, then," Harry said. "Let's just enjoy the rest of the evening. You up for another dance?"

"Actually, I'm thinking pictures first," Hermione said, pointing to Colin Creevy, who was apparently talking to the first-year girl Ron had brought with him. Ginny was looking rather pleased with herself.

"How did Colin get in here? He's only third year! And I don't mean this badly, but he's not exactly brave enough to ask an older girl out to the ball with him, I think."

"I think he may have special permission from Professor McGonagall to be the official student photographer," Hermione said. "He is one of the only students with his own camera, after all."

As Colin saw Harry approach, he stopped talking and nervously stuttered, "I-I haven't been t-taking any pictures of you this evening, Harry, Hermione! I s-swear!"

"Relax, Colin. We want you to take our pictures this time," Harry explained. "In fact, I'll even pay you for it."

"Really?" Colin took his camera out of his bag, eager to snap a few right away.

"With certain conditions," Hermione added quickly before he pressed the shutter. "You don't give or sell these pictures to anyone. In fact, we want _all _the copies. And we'll want duplicates of the ones we like best."

Colin nodded in understanding. Harry and Hermione posed for several pictures, trying different positions. They started off with relatively normal, side-by-side picture, then some with Harry holding Hermione from behind. Grabbing a chair, they tried a few shots sitting. Eventually they began to have some more fun like they did at home, although they were still stuck in the Great Hall. They had a shot of themselves dancing, pretending they were better than they actually were. There was a mock utensil fight at their table, which led to a few shots of Hermione feeding Harry. They ended their photo session with their arms wrapped around each other, their lips locked in a soft kiss. They could hear a few wolf-whistles in the background, but they ignored them.

"Okay, _that_ picture doesn't get to mum and dad, alright?"

"Agreed. But I think I'll keep it with me all the time," Harry said. "Maybe I should put it in a locket to keep it close by."

"I want one too!" Hermione squeaked.

"Of course you'll get one! Maybe it should be one of those lockets that snap together like a puzzle. A heart-shaped puzzle or something."

"Ugh, no! I can't imagine myself wearing that after I graduate from school. Pick one that's classier, please!"

"Fine, fine," Harry said as his idea was partially shot down. "Let's go dance now."

They made their way back to the dance floor, where there were really only a few couples dancing. The Weird Sisters were playing a quick, upbeat song, and very few people could truly dance to it, most of them opting to just move around in place. Fleur and Cedric, however, had stolen the dance floor as they jiving perfectly to the music, causing many people to stop and watch. Harry was glad that everyone's attention was on them, which allowed him to learn how to dance properly with Hermione without cheating with legilimency. The only other couple who was really dancing was, surprisingly enough, Luna and Neville. At least, Luna was dancing. Neville was getting the hang of moving his feet, and Luna was very good at avoiding his. Every once in a while when Neville froze, unsure of what to do, Luna would just continue and add a flourish, like a spin or even jump into Neville's arms until he recovered from the shock and continued dancing.

The two of them decided to settle on a very simple dance like they had just did at the beginning of the ball. Going at half the speed of the music, they just danced in a simple square, using the same steps as before but without any legilimency tricks. Both of them were surprised how much easier it was this time.

"You know, this is pretty fun," Harry said. "Maybe we should have taken those lessons after all."

"Especially when you've gotten much better with your footwork," Hermione sniggered. "I'm just wondering how long it took Cedric to learn how to dance like that."

"We could ask," Harry said.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to interrupt them. We can always ask him some other day."

Fleur and Cedric tired each other out after a while, spending the rest of the night at their table chatting. Harry and Hermione continued to dance their slow, simple dance until 11:50, when the floor was cleared and they readied the countdown to the new year. Sitting down at the table, Harry watched as sparkling numbers appeared on the ceiling of the Great Hall, displaying the time. They looked like clusters of stars, blending in with image of the actual night sky outside that the ceiling showed.

"We don't have any drinks to cheers with!" Hermione suddenly realized. She got up from the table to grab two champagne flutes, which were filled with non-alcoholic Sparkling Squash Cider instead.

"Ten!" The crowd cheered as the final countdown began.

"Nine!"

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said as she returned with the glasses just in time.

"Three!"

"Two!" They raised their glasses.

"One!"

"Happy New Year!" Everyone shouted as the hall filled with cheers and clinking glasses.

"Happy New Year," Harry said as he took a swig of the cider. Seconds later, his eyes rolled up as he crumpled to the floor.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Ballroom dancing actually is kind of fun. I suggest you try it. I wish I had the time to take more lessons.

- Yay, finally gearing up for a little more action again soon. Hopefully.

- Yes, Ginny at the moment is still "fangirl Ginny" having not received Hermione's summer talk. I'm still trying to figure out how much of a fangirl she is, though. Canon Ginny barely gets any mention, so it's hard to tell where she _should_ be.


	23. Wrongful Accusations

**Author's Note: **HPU = JKR

* * *

**Chapter 23: Wrongful Accusations**

Harry found himself lying on his back in a dark, dank chamber. He could hear the slow drip of water on the rocks. He could barely feel the cold, hard stone floor on his back, as it felt extremely numb. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. It was then he began to panic. Desperately attempting to get a hold of his location, he tried to grope around in the darkness, but found his body wasn't responding. He couldn't move a muscle! The fear in him rose as he felt trapped in his body, unable to do anything. There was no way to tell how much time had passed. The drips of water were erratic and uneven, causing him to lose track of any attempt to do so inside his head. From the distance, he heard footsteps hurriedly approach. As they got nearer, the person they belonged to muttered "_Enervate."_

Harry felt his eyes open involuntarily. Before him stood a dirty, pudgy man with buck teeth, twitching his nose, and holding a small vial of smoking liquid. It was Pettigrew! Harry wanted to scream out in rage at him, but the words that came out of his mouth instead were, "Wormtail. What time is it?"

"M-M-Master, t-there was s-s-some... complication with the tra-transference..." Pettigrew stammered in fear.

"I asked you for the time, Wormtail. Do not try my patience or I will be asking you for your life, next." Harry could see and feel himself standing up.

"I-It is two minutes past midnight, milord," Pettigrew replied.

It was when Voldemort roared in rage that Harry finally realized he was having another vision. Once again establishing his mental shields, he did his best to observe as much as he could through Voldemort's senses. They were deep underground- as far as Harry could tell, they were nowhere near Riddle Manor any more. They were in the interior of some kind of cavern, lit up only by a few candles standing on the ground. They were arranged in ritual circles where Voldemort had just stood up at the center. Directly facing him was the corpse of a misshapen baby. He walked over to it, picking up the wand it held in its hands. He then walked towards Pettigrew and plucked the potion out of his hands. "Four minutes, Wormtail. I told you this ritual had to be completed two minutes _before_ the stroke of midnight, not after. You have cost me a some of my power with that mistake. _Crucio._"

Pettigrew screamed and wailed in pain, losing all control of his body as he shook and convulsed in pain. After only thirty seconds of the torture curse, he could barely speak. "Your... magic... is... as strong... as ever... milord..." he croaked out.

"Do not assume you know what my power _should_ be better than I do," Voldemort hissed. "Your four minutes cost me nearly half my power. I think, then, it will take eight minutes of the Cruciatus for you to truly feel the pain you deserve."

"Please... forgive me, my lord... I followed the ritual exactly... but your soul... it... aaAAAUGGHH!" Pettigrew's pleas fell on deaf ears as Voldemort tortured the little man. After one minute, Pettigrew's voice gave out and he was no longer able to scream, but his body continued to twitch and spasm under the spell. Another seven minutes later and Harry could barely tell that Pettigrew was even alive. Voldemort drank the potion that he had taken from Pettigrew. Harry could feel more detached from the vision, but he held on, still hoping to find some more clues.

_~Master, may I eat the fat one?~_ came Nagini's slithery voice. Harry was surprised when the snake made its appearance. When he had seen it in the summer, it was already huge, at least two meters long. If his visions were in real time, then this must was only half a year later and Nagini had grown to at least three meters. Even when rearing back it was already as tall as Pettigrew. More interestingly, however, was the shape of its head and a few of the scales that were sticking out, beginning to form a shape that was very familiar to Harry.

_~No, Nagini, do not sully your palate with the rat-man. Besides, he still has some uses for me. Go outside and practice your hunting. The great boars of this mountain should sate your hunger well."_

_~Thank you, master. May I use my eyes this time?~_ It was then that Harry noticed the snake was keeping its eyes closed.

_~Your stare cannot kill yet, Nagini, but your venom sacs are developing nicely. Track your prey by smell and their footsteps. That should be enough.~_

"That snake of yours still gives me the willies, Master," came a voice from behind. Harry was surprised that Voldemort would tolerate a Death Eater who would talk so frankly to him, but then again, Voldemort didn't have very many allies right now.

Turning around, he faced another Death Eater Harry hadn't noticed before. His face was completely obscured by a mask, so Harry couldn't tell what the man looked like. "Crouch," Voldemort addressed him. "Have you found out anything from your spy? How did Dumbledore know about Riddle Manor?"

"Not a thing, but Dumbledore also hasn't heard anything interesting since then," Crouch answered. His voice was completely different from Barty Crouch of the International Cooperation department. "They still can't figure out why the Boy-Who-Lived is in the tournament." He laughed mischievously. "Although, it seems that putting him in the tournament was a pretty good idea."

"What? Has he manifested any unique talents?" Voldemort asked eagerly.

"No, but it seems like you're not the only one who wants him dead now. From what I could see, he was just poisoned by someone. Spiked his drink at the New Year's party. His little lady-friend delivered it herself."

"Probably just a foolish attempt by one of the competitors. Poison, while only steps away from the Hogwarts infirmary and hundreds of witnesses? Such is the incompetence of those who are too weak to see what real power is," Voldemort crowed. "You are performing your role well, Crouch. You will be well rewarded once I return to my rightful place."

"Thank you, master. How are you enjoying your new body? I consider it one of my finest creations," Crouch responded gleefully.

"Yes, against a young wizard, this body should do nicely," Voldemort said, inspecting his own hands and fingers. They were bony and pale, and some parts of it had bits of cord and wood protruding from underneath the skin. It seemed as if this time, Voldemort was partially mechanical or at least making heavy use of prosthetics.

"If this body fails before our work this year is finished, I will take yours in repayment," Voldemort threatened.

"It only has to last until July, right, Master? The charms I've put on it will last it at least three years." Crouch cackled like a mad scientist. "Would you like to try it out? I've found you a few test subjects walking around outside..." With a flick of his wand, a few hovering flames lit up the back of the cave, where several people were tied up to the rocks. Harry could tell they were muggles- they wore thick, down parkas instead of robes and two of them appeared to still be wearing snowshoes.

"Excellent work, Crouch." Eyeing the first one, man in his late thirties who looked starved and dehydrated, he raised his wand. "_Flammadio!"_ A glowing orange blade flew at the man, passing straight through his body. The man died before he could even react to the shock. Harry could see that the rock he was tied to had also been cut, and it was glowing red from the heat of the spell.

As the smell of burnt flesh filled the air, Harry felt nauseous. He had to get away from this. He couldn't hold on to the vision any longer. With a sharp breath, he opened his own eyes once again, and threw up.

* * *

"I'm telling you, I didn't do anything!" Hermione pleaded. "I love Harry! I'd do anything for him!" Tears streamed down her face, dripping all the way down her cheeks as she couldn't wipe them away. Her arms and legs were shackled to the interrogation chair. In front of her, two aurors stood silently, one still inspecting her wand. Without a word, they left the dungeon and closed the door behind them.

"So what do you think, Rutgers?" Shacklebolt asked his officer.

"Her occlumency's strong. Who on earth taught her? I could have nightmares with that beast she's got guarding her mind. Not to mention she's got them up all the time. She could tell me water's wet and I wouldn't know if she was lying or not."

"So all those tears could just be an act?" Shacklebolt shook his head. He'd never thought he would ever meet someone so young, talented, and at the same time, holding so many secrets. Hadn't Dumbledore describe Voldemort's early life similarly?

"Uh... sorry to interrupt, sir, but I've got some preliminary results back," another auror said as he arrived.

"Go ahead, Bigsby."

"Glass seems to be clear. No active poisons in the champagne. We also got a sample from Mr. Potter's mouth, nothing in there, either."

"No active poison in the glass or saliva reaction?" Kingsley looked puzzled. "Then it's probably a binary poison, something he ate just before drinking the cider. He fell right after the first gulp, right?"

"That's the odd bit about it, he had nothing to eat or drink at all before the cider for an hour. They were seen dancing together for an hour until the countdown."

Rubbing his chin, Kingsley said, "We'll know more when the healers are finished their examinations. What else?"

"Background info on the girl all seem to corroborate. She's been his girlfriend since September... or June, depending on who you ask. They're always together."

"Jealousy, maybe? Sometimes the really _devoted_ ones can be obsessive. Has Harry dated any other girls?"

Bigsby laughed. "Yeah, right after the second trial. Guess who? Fleur Delacour. Cedric noticed him still watching his date throughout the night."

"We've got motive, but we still haven't found the method. Keep at it," Kingsley ordered.

"No veritaserum authorization yet?"

"Not without stronger evidence. She's just the lead suspect. There's always the chance of a compulsion charm by someone else, so keep an eye out," the auror captain ordered.

* * *

Harry found himself in a very familiar room- the Hogwarts hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was standing over him, but an auror was watching him from the foot of his bed. His mind was still reeling from everything he had seen. "How long was I out?" Harry asked.

"Just a little over an hour. Thank goodness you're alright. Whatever poison that was, it didn't show up in any of my medical scans, but we couldn't wake you no matter what we tried."

"Poison?" The word reverberated in his mind. Somebody else mentioned that to him already...

"Yes, we believe your glass was poisoned at the ball. We're still having trouble tracking down how she did it," the auror told him.

Harry quickly remembered what had happened. He was still in his dress robes. The clock had just struck midnight and he'd fainted when the vision began. Then it struck him. Crouch had mentioned to Voldemort that he saw Harry drink something at the ball and faint. That must have been half an hour ago. There was a spy inside Hogwarts tonight, feeding Crouch information- or was Crouch there himself? Harry shuddered at the thought. How did he, or the spy, get off the grounds? Harry doubted that Voldemort was hiding within a half-hour owl's flight from Hogwarts. Walking off the grounds and apparating could work, and so would flooing. The chaos of Harry fainting would have been the perfect time to escape. But what if it was simply another form of instant communication? Harry couldn't take the chance. Voldemort still didn't know about Harry's visions, and he couldn't afford tell anyone he didn't trust completely.

"Could you let Hermione in, please?" he asked. "I know you still want to keep me here under your potions, Madam Pomfrey, but I assure you I'm feeling much better, and I could use the company."

"Mr. Potter," the auror began. "We have reason to believe that Miss Granger is the one who poisoned you. We've taken her into custody."

"WHAT?" Harry shouted, bolting upright. "No, she'd never do that to me. You've got to let her go. It's just a misunderstanding."

"Mr. Potter, I know you had a... close relationship with the girl in question, but you must understand..."

"Tell me where she is," Harry interrupted. He swatted Madam Pomfrey's hand away as he searched for his wand. He found it on the tray beside the bed.

"Please, stay calm. Put down the wand. You're confused. You had a tiring night, you've just recovered from poison..." the auror held up both of his hands towards Harry in an attempt to placate the boy, but Harry wasn't stopping.

"Where is she? Is she in the DMLE at the ministry? Is she hurt?"

"I can't tell you that. We have to keep you two apart! You could be in danger!"

"TELL ME!" Harry roared. The auror's words struck him hard. _Keep us apart? No, I have to be by her side right now, _he thought. _She could be in danger. Who's the spy? Who's with her?_ With a burst of legilimency, he thrust his will upon the auror's mind. The auror couldn't even bring his mental shields to block the attack before Harry found what he wanted. She was close by, in one of the Hogwarts dungeons that had been converted for use as an interrogation room for the aurors stationed at the castle this year. Harry leapt from his bed with wand in hand, surprising Madam Pomfrey. The auror was still off-balance from the mental attack. He was out the door before either could stop him.

Harry ran through the corridors hearing aurors' footsteps behind him, with shouts of "Stop him!" He ducked down a secret corridor, shaving a minute off his trip to the dungeons and losing his pursuers at the same time. He knew he had arrived at the right dungeon when he saw Shacklebolt standing outside, talking to another auror. Shacklebolt noticed him approaching first. "Harry! That was a quick recovery. Are you sure you're not supposed to be in bed?"

Still suspicious of a potential spy working for Voldemort, and desperate to see Hermione, he nearly fired a spell at the auror captain. He was barely able to calm himself enough to say between his heavy breaths, "Not poison. Hermione's innocent. Let her go."

"What do you mean, not poison? So you just decided to faint of your own accord?" the auror standing beside Shacklebolt asked doubtingly.

Harry thought for a moment. A silly excuse was better than telling them the truth, he decided. "Yes. I'm prone to fainting. It was just a coincidence. Now where is she?"

"Bigsby, let me handle this one," Shacklebolt muttered to the other auror. To Harry, he said, "I assure you she's fine. We'll release her after questioning unharmed."

"Sorry, your word isn't good enough. I need to see her now." Harry's agitation was showing more and more. He kept glancing at the door behind the aurors, wondering how quickly it would take him to unlock it himself. "Are you going to open that door for me or not?"

The auror who chased Harry from the hospital wing arrived from the opposite end of the hallway. Now there were three aurors between him and the door. The auror told his captain, "Sir, he's paranoid, and delusional. He attacked me and ran straight from the hospital wing. Probably thinks he has to be the white wizard here to save his weeping witch."

_They think I'm crazy?_ Harry wondered. _Well, I guess I am acting a little strange from their perspective._ Calming himself a little and trying to look a little less "crazy," he asked again, "I just want to see her. Can you let me into the dungeon?"

With a quick discussion and a few nods to his aurors, Shacklebolt said, "As long as you don't try anything funny. You'll have to hand in your wand."

Harry weighed his options. There was the possibility that they'd just stun him and take him back to the hospital wing, but they probably also thought he'd attack them- or maybe Hermione if he didn't. He did a surface legilimency scan. Shacklebolt had strong shields, and he couldn't feel anything from him. Bigsby was just surprised and suspicious. The one from the hospital was feeling hostile.

"Tell him to put away his wand and unlock the door, then I'll give mine over," Harry bargained.

Shacklebolt nodded in agreement. "Verne, put down your wand and show him in."

After he did so, Harry handed over his wand to Bigsby. Making sure not to do anything surprising, he walked inside. Hermione was shackled to a chair, sobbing quietly. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was a mess. She looked up as he walked in. "Harry? Harry, you have to believe me, I didn't put anything in your drink! I swear, Harry, I'd never betray you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." She began to bawl uncontrollably.

Harry ran up to her and wrapped his arm around her protectively. He kissed her forehead reassuringly and asked, "Are you alright, Hermione? Did they hurt you? You didn't have anything to do with what happened to me, Hermione. Don't worry." He wiped her cheeks with his thumb.

"I thought I w-was going to lose you, Harry. You only ha-had a sip of the cider, a-and then you fainted. It must ha-have been something really potent." She sniffled as she spoke, causing her chest to heave unevenly.

"Hey, you're talking to the guy who's survived basilisk venom twice," Harry joked. "I'll always find you again no matter what happens to me." He brushed her hair back with his fingers and lifted her chin, smiling at her.

Hermione gave a weak smile. "Once," she corrected. "So what was it? Madam Pomfrey must have figured it out pretty quickly."

"Oh, it wasn't a poison. I'll tell you about it later. You're the only one I can trust right now," Harry whispered as he leaned into Hermione's ear. "Although I'm going to need some kind of excuse for why I'd faint for no reason."

"You're epileptic?" Hermione suggested.

"I'm not sure what that is, but I guess it'll work," Harry answered. To the aurors standing at the door, he shouted, "Hey! Could you guys let her go now?"

Rather surprised at how much calmer both of them were now that they were reunited, Shacklebolt undid the locks binding Hermione to the chair. She immediately leapt up and hugged Harry with all her might. Both of them refused to let each other go as Shacklebolt cleared his throat awkwardly. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter, but we'd like you to come in for some questioning tomorrow."

"I'd rather speak to Dumbledore, actually. In private. Is he available right now?"

Dumbledore would get involved directly at some point, Shacklebolt knew. If it wasn't as the headmaster of the school, it would be as the Supreme Mugwump if this became an international concern. If a suspect was actually caught and taken to court, he'd be there as the Chief Warlock. Having Harry speak to him directly might even speed up the process. He ordered Verne to go find the Headmaster.

* * *

Half an hour later, Harry and Hermione were sitting in Dumbledore's office with the aurors waiting outside. Still in their dress robes but looking far more tired and unkempt, they waited for their headmaster to close and lock the door. "Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered. When they both politely declined, the headmaster sighed and continued. "Why is it that you ask to see me, but refused to answer the questions of the aurors, Harry?"

Instead of answering directly, Harry asked, "Is your office secure, headmaster? Can anybody overhear our conversation in here?"

"I ensure my office is always secure for private discussions, Harry." Seeing the unsure look on Harry's face, he cast a wide spell that caused the entire room to glow briefly, leaving only a few spots glowing. "The room is clear, Harry. The only monitoring charms here are the ones I placed myself, for security. There won't be any eavesdropping short of a true diviner intent on hearing our conversation, and they have not existed for a few hundred years."

"Thank you, sir." Harry relaxed slightly. "What just happened to me at midnight was another vision, like the one I wrote to you about in the summer." Hermione gasped.

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "I see. So the fact that you fainted right after taking a drink was mere coincidence?"

Harry nodded. "There's a lot that happened. I'm trying to organize everything in my mind right now."

"Why don't you tell me from the beginning, then?"

Harry took a deep breath and began slowly. "My vision started at the end of a ritual Voldemort and Pettigrew were performing. When he woke up, the first thing he asked for was the time. He punished Pettigrew for finishing a few minutes late," Harry explained. He paused here, wondering, "Why did he have to finish at 11:58 exactly, instead of midnight? In fact, why New Year's at all? I think the most magically powerful days were on the solstices and equinoxes."

"I see you've been taking your astronomy classes more seriously than your potions," Dumbledore chuckled. "New Year's Eve is, in fact, a rather important day for Voldemort. He was born several minutes before the stroke of midnight. Was the ritual he was performing some sort of rebirth ritual?"

Harry nodded. "He transferred to a new body. The last time he was in some tiny, baby's body that Pettigrew carried, but now he's the size of an adult and he can walk around by himself."

Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "One of the rituals he may have been attempting would require that he perform it as close to his own birth date as possible."

"What about the... baby's body he was in before?" Harry asked.

"I sincerely hope you are only asking out of curiosity, and you will never attempt the ritual yourself?" Harry only nodded in response. "Then it is best not to mention it at all, other than to say it was the result of an extremely dark magic mixed with a very damaged soul. Is there anything else you remember?"

"Um... the snake showed up again, and it's grown a lot bigger. Oh! I think the snake's a basilisk. Voldemort mentioned its stare and its venom wasn't really mature yet."

"I knew it would be rather silly for him to make a horcrux out of a plain old boa constrictor or something," Hermione commented. "Eeep!" she squeaked as she caught Dumbledore's surprised look.

"How did you know about such a dark object?" the headmaster asked cautiously. "It couldn't have been from the books within the restricted section."

"Voldemort mentioned it," Harry made up an excuse. "We didn't know what the word meant in the summer, but Hermione's just brilliant at researching, you know, and we managed to figure out what it was by the time school started. We figured you already knew what the ritual was by what we could describe."

"Go on, then, Harry," the headmaster said with a kindly smile. Harry knew that, inside, Dumbledore was probably doubting his story. He'd have to be more careful.

"Well, next he talked to a new Death Eater. He was named Crouch. I'm almost certain that was the 'Bartemius Crouch' I saw on the map that put my name in the cup, sir. His voice was different from Mr. Crouch here, a lot younger. He's the one who constructed the new body for Voldemort. He also mentioned a spy here at Hogwarts. He knew about me fainting at the ball, Headmaster, and it couldn't have been more than half an hour since it happened."

"This is indeed troubling," Dumbledore mused. "I can see why you felt you couldn't trust the aurors."

"He was trying to find out how you knew about Riddle Manor. Apparently he's still unaware I'm having the visions," Harry said. "Sir, may I ask what you found out when you investigated the manor?"

"Harry, I would prefer you not concern yourself with what happens to Voldemort. The information you're providing me is undoubtedly helpful in the fight against darkness, but I would prefer you enjoy your childhood while you still can, hm?" He gave Harry his best "jolly old man" smile. Harry didn't take in a word of it.

"Sir, he's already robbed me of my parents and then got involved in my life again when I was reintroduced to the magical world. I don't think ignoring him would make him ignore me. In fact, he seemed to have a rather unhealthy interest in watching my progress in the tournament," Harry retorted.

"Ah, yes, but you must not face him before you're ready, Harry. It is important to choose your battles wisely instead of rushing to meet your opponent at the earliest opportunity."

"But if we don't keep track of what Voldemort's up to, how can we know when _is_ the right time to face him?" Hermione asked.

"Miss Granger, if Voldemort does return to power, then there will be many roles in the days to come. Coordinating the forces of the light is not the job of a young student such as yourself."

"But what about Harry? Voldemort's taken a personal interest in him, he's going to have to face him eventually!"

"Then let us hope it does not come to that. It is the role of the adults to take arms and protect the innocent such as yourselves."

"I'd rather not hope about it, but actually know what I'll be facing and prepare for it," Hermione huffed. Harry smiled. He knew she wasn't the type to hope she got good grades even if she'd been tutoring all the other students in their year. She'd certainly been helping him prepare for nearly every possibility when it came to the Triwizard trials.

"Do not doubt the power of hope, because hope is one of the greatest sources of light when you are faced with darkness," Dumbledore said. "When plans fail, hope is what carries people through."

Harry was getting frustrated with Dumbledore's answers. Did he always have a wise-sounding answer to everything? The discussion was going in circles. There was no point in any more discussion- other than to get what they came here for originally. "Thank you, Headmaster, I'll keep your advice in mind. You'll tell the aurors that Hermione's done nothing wrong, then?" he asked as he took Hermione's hand. With a nod from Dumbledore, they left his office, walking past the security team waiting outside.

They slipped past the aurors, avoiding their gazes. As they approached Gryffindor Tower, Hermione tugged back on Harry's hand. "Harry... I don't want to go to bed yet."

"Aren't you tired, Hermione?" Harry asked, concerned by what he saw in front of him. Hermione was already drained at the ball from dancing, and after that she underwent an interrogation by the aurors. He thought that rest would be the first thing on her mind.

"Harry... I just want to be with you a little longer. An hour ago I thought you were dying... and that I might have had a hand in it..."

He reassuringly held her closer as they turned the corner towards the Room of Requirement instead of the Fat Lady's portrait. "You didn't, Hermione, you have to remember that. Even if you did, I wouldn't blame you for it. It would have had to be some compulsion charm, or the imperius, or something like that. I know you'd never hurt me willingly."

"It's just... the interrogation... it felt awful," Hermione mumbled. Harry lost his concentration when she said that, making him attempt to summon the room all over again.

"What did they do to you?"

"It's not so much what they did, but what they said. They kept asking questions like 'do you know what you've done?' and telling me, 'you'll never walk away with this many witnesses.' When they started asking me for the formula of the poison, I realized they probably couldn't wake you and you might have been dying." They walked into the room together, which had fashioned itself into something much like a deluxe suite at a hotel. They both sat down on the bed and Hermione leaned her head onto Harry's shoulder.

"You know, it's not so bad, is it? If it _was_ poison, you could always go back in time again and we'd be reunited. You'd be saving my life, too." He wondered if this was the right thing to say in this situation. He realized it probably wasn't when Hermione cried harder.

"But that wouldn't fix anything!" she sobbed. "I thought you really were poisoned, and I'd done it! What if you never trusted me any more? What would be the first thing you'd do when we found each other in the chamber again?" She flopped down onto the bed and curled into a ball. "Or, even worse, if I was found guilty and sent to Azkaban, then I wouldn't be able to send myself back anyway, and I'd have to live years with those dementors..."

"Hermione, you're thinking too much again. Have you forgotten how much you've done for me? How much... you've suffered... for me?" Harry was almost brought to tears when he realized how much his friendship with Hermione had cost her over the years. _No, Harry! Be a man! Stay strong! h_e told himself. "I almost thought I'd never see you again, either. I was so scared when I woke up and they told me you'd been taken away."

Hermione's breathing grew quieter as they lay on the bed together, savouring each other's presence, which they could have lost with a little bad luck. "Did you come straight to me, Harry?" Hermione mumbled, half asleep.

"As soon as I found out. I... attacked an auror to find out where you were," Harry winced. Hopefully they wouldn't charge him with anything as he was pretty agitated at the time, and Dumbledore would put in a good word for him, wouldn't he?

"Mmm... thanks..." Hermione mumbled in response. She must have been really tired if she didn't berate Harry for doing something so irresponsible. He guessed he should never tell her about how he was almost contemplating duelling two aurors at once just to get into the room. Soon enough, they were both asleep on the bed in each other's arms, still wearing their dress robes.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- wheee! I'd always planned for another vision around this time, but then I realized that framing it as a poisoning would look make things more fun for everyone.

- also, some people may not know that epileptic seizures are rarely ever the shake-and-flail _grand mal_ seizures you see so much on TV, but more often just fainting or even just what appears to be zoning out.


	24. Following Rules

**Author's Note: **blah blah JKR's a billionaire and I'm not blah

- 500 reviews! yay! thanks for enjoying, everyone!

- Since I'm close to 150k words, I'll take a short break from writing again to do some revisions. Feel free to point out any spelling/grammar errors or inconsistencies.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Following Rules**

New Year's Day was far calmer than New Year's Eve. Partly because it was a holiday, but also because the two of them avoided everyone else as much as possible. Their day started off with sleeping in and skipping breakfast, opting to have a late brunch inside the kitchens instead of the Great Hall. The few students that saw them along the way were amused to see them still in their dress robes, but also surprised to see Hermione walking with Harry. From the scene at the Ball, the Hogwarts rumour mill had already worked the story that Hermione was taken to Azkaban and Harry was dead. Or, from another group of students, that Hermione was plotting to kill Dumbledore but Harry heroically took the fall for the headmaster. Needless to say, Hermione was probably going to have a very hard time in the next few days, and Harry decided that he should stick with her as much as possible until the rumours died down- even if it meant going to Potions class again.

"Are you sure about that?" Hermione asked as she worked on her omelette. "Professor Snape is going to be absolutely livid when you walk into the classroom."

"I'd love to see the look on his face when I brew the potions perfectly," Harry said, staring at the strange, custom creation from Dobby. He'd asked for something "tasty" and this was the result. "I think we'll probably be able to start studying fifth-year potions after the Trial of Water, thanks to your wonderful tutoring."

"Harry, if you're going to class, you should take it seriously," Hermione chided.

"Can't promise you that," he replied, taking the first bite of his breakfast. He had to hand it to the little elf- it might have looked strange, but it was what he'd asked for. "He won't teach the class seriously when I'm in it. In fact, I'm sure he'll try to give me a failing grade for whatever I brew, so I'll probably end up reminding him that I don't even have to take the class this year."

"Harry, you have to take school seriously!" He was touching on one of her sore points.

"Which is why I'm studying potions with you instead," he gave her a smug grin. "I'm only going to class for your protection, anyway."

"It won't really be that bad. I'm able to handle myself in classes. I'm guessing it'll be like second year when Malfoy was taunting me about being the monster's next target."

"Then it's all the more reason for me to be there," Harry concluded. Changing the subject, he said, "Do you think Dumbledore really meant what he said last night?"

"About what?"

"How I'm not supposed to do anything at all while he and the aurors take down Voldemort."

"I... I think he honestly believes you shouldn't worry..."

"But do you think it's the _right_ thing to do?" Harry stopped eating and stared straight at Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably.

"He... _has_ had experience fighting Voldemort before... he's Professor Dumbledore! He _did _try to track down Voldemort at Riddle Manor after we owled him... even if he didn't tell us what he actually did..."

"Hermione..." Harry kept his eyes on her until she broke.

"Alright, fine. I think he's wrong, alright? We should be learning as much as we possibly can right now." Her eagerness for research and planning had won over her respect for the professor.

"You know he pretty much said the same thing back in my first year after my run-in with Quirrel? It was basically, 'Yes, Voldemort isn't dead, but don't worry about it for now.' When exactly _should_ I start worrying, anyway?"

"Maybe when you're of age?" Hermione suggested. "Although if he's anything like my grandparents, he'd keep treating you like a little boy no matter how old you get."

"Given how he tried to kill me as a baby, I don't think Voldemort has any problems trying to off me while I'm still legally a child." Harry complained. "I need to prepare for him _now_. For all I know Dumbledore could just drop dead... for some... reason... next year?" He paused as he tried to remember. "How am I supposed to prepare for that?"

"I... don't think you can, especially if we don't know why or how it happened. Maybe Dumbledore does have a point, for this year at least. You should concentrate on more immediate concerns."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The Trial of Water's coming up, Harry. We need you to be more prepared."

"I'm still swimming with you, aren't I? I mean, we haven't practiced for the past few days, but that's because of the ball..."

"That's just muggle swimming, Harry. You need to learn that so you won't drown if you drop your wand. We need to start practicing magic underwater. And scouting out the Black Lake isn't a bad idea, either. You should get familiar with it so you don't get lost when you're down there. We should start as soon as possible."

"Fine," Harry said. "Hedwig should be back with the gillyweed by tomorrow. I'll tell her to buy some more... I hope she's not mad at me."

"Why would she be?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Well, the only place to order it was from the North Africa Specialty Compound Acquisition and Research group. Gillyweed only grows in the Sahara, apparently. I guess Neville forgot to mention that when he suggested it. I only ordered three hour's worth for the trial, but I guess I'll get more so I can swim every day before the trial. I hope she doesn't mind flying all the way there again..."

"The apothecaries in Diagon or Unifer's Alley didn't have it? And why would a water-plant grow in the desert?" Hermione wondered.

"Nope, not enough interest in it, I guess. They offered to order it for me, but it was faster to deal with the company directly. And the Sahara isn't actually a desert, it's just what the muggles see. It's one of the biggest wizarding nature preserves in the world, including the world's largest lake," Harry explained proudly, getting the chance to teach Hermione something. He was actually just regurgitating word-for-word what his owl-order potions supplier had told him.

"We HAVE to visit that someday, Harry," Hermione said, slamming both her hands on the table. "And once you get better at swimming, the Great Barrier Reef. And Yellowstone park. And the Galapagos Islands. Oh, Harry, there's so much of the world I want to see as soon as we finish school."

"What happened to our more immediate concerns?" Harry joked. He'd never had a chance to even see pictures of the places she mentioned, except the reef during a documentary they watched over the summer. If the other places she suggested were as beautiful as that, he wanted to go as well. Hermione gave him the best puppy-dog impression she could muster, but she wasn't very experienced at it. "Okay, fine, we'll take a trip together after graduation. I want to see it, too."

* * *

Harry waited for Hermione in the common room after changing out of his dress robes. The other boys, for the most part, were completely used to various incidents causing Harry to end up in the hospital wing, so he had no difficulty getting to his dorm to get changed. Hermione, he suspected, was having much more trouble. While he was waiting, he caught some flaming red hair approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey, Harry. I heard what happened last night," Ginny said. "I wanted to say... um... y-you can... if you want to talk about it... um..."

Harry sighed. Ginny would be the fifth person to say that to him, and he'd only been awake for an hour so far. "From whom?" he asked.

"What?" Ginny was taken aback by Harry's response.

"Whichever story you heard, it wasn't from me... so which story did you hear?" Harry asked her as gently as he could, but he couldn't hide his frustration very well.

"Huh? Evelyn told me that you broke up with Hermione at the ball and she didn't take it so well... She may have heard that story from Ophelia in Hufflepuff, though, who probably got it straight from Cedric," she recalled. Seeing that Harry was still waiting for more, she continued. "Everyone _was_ sitting on the opposite side of the Hall from the champion's table... he's the only one who could see everything. I only saw the aurors taking Hermione away, and she was absolutely _hysterical_. I didn't know what she did to you but I think she wanted to go back for more. She was fighting them tooth and nail to get back to you. They eventually had to stun her."

The story was entirely false, but he was waiting for what Ginny had seen herself. "Really? You saw them stun Hermione?" Hermione hadn't told him that part. Then again, a proper stunner shouldn't hurt. Perhaps she was embarrassed about completely losing her composure.

"Yeah, she must have been furious. At first I thought she was worried about you, but when I heard from Evelyn..." Ginny told him.

"She _was_ worried about me, Ginny. We didn't break up. I'm... um... epileptic," Harry decided to use Hermione's excuse.

"Huh? You're what?"

"I'll get Hermione to explain it," Harry said, not really knowing what it was either. "But the point is, that story about us breaking up is false. So is the story about her trying to poison me. What really happened was I just fainted when the clock struck midnight and she overreacted."

"Oh... s-so you two are... um... still together?" Ginny's cheeks were starting to match her hair.

"Yes, happily," Harry answered.

"Oh... okay... um, that's... good..." Ginny darted away before Harry could say goodbye.

Hermione came running down the stairs a few minutes later. "Let's go, Harry!" She grabbed him without explaining why she was in such a rush, but Harry heard shouting from the girls' dorms and saw feet at the top of the stairs.

"Let me guess, they think we broke up and they want you to stay away from me?" Harry asked as they ran out of the tower.

"No, that's just Lavender and Parvati. They're just mad I washed off all their 'hard work' last night and went with something simpler."

"That's it? They're that angry over a little makeup?"

"And they thought we broke up, and it was _because_ I wasn't dolled up the way they suggested. The break-up rumour seems to be the most popular theory in Gryffindor."

They ran down to the library, which was almost completely empty, except for a few Ravenclaws- the extremely studious ones who didn't attend the ball and didn't care about rumours anyway. They began with Hogwarts: A History to see what creatures lurked below the surface of the Black Lake. It seemed the Giant Squid had been there since the time of the founders. Grindylows and Merfolk were common. Harry would never be able to learn the merfolk language in time, but Hermione picked up a tome on merfolk culture to make sure Harry wouldn't accidentally offend them and end up with half the village chasing him across the lake. Jellices would be active during this time of year as well, which could instantly give Harry frostbite if he wasn't careful with them. Sadly, throughout the thousand-year history of Hogwarts, very few wizards had taken the time to bother exploring the lake at all. The most detailed map they could find only pointed to the general location of the merfolk village and a vague area marked "do not enter." It was also about three hundred years out of date.

After learning all they could about the creatures of the Black Lake, Hermione began looking up other aquatic creatures, while Harry studied some water-based spells that could be useful. Strangely enough, Harry was the one who had to keep Hermione focused, as she kept wandering towards the geography and travel section to look up more about the Sahara. He found a modified warming charm which could make the lake water more comfortable and a modified bubble-head charm to allow him to breathe, both of which Hermione insisted he learn just in case he ran out of, or lost, his gillyweed during the trial. He memorized a few offensive spells as well, like the freezing and boiling charms, and a wave charm. The wave charm was technically for a wizard outside of water casting on the surface, but they hoped it would work underwater as well. Hermione got the brilliant idea of performing featherweight charms on things, including Harry himself, to make them float away. After finding a good day's worth of material to practice, they headed up to the Room of Requirement and created the swimming pool again, this time to practice casting spells underwater. The room couldn't provide them with creatures, but it did manage to create target dummies underwater.

Underwater casting, they found, was very different from casting on land or in the air. The spells Harry could perform nonverbally came out well, but every spell he had to voice the incantation failed. That could explain why wizards were so reluctant to explore the sea. Even for the spells that he could cast perfectly, only some of them worked. The standard flame hex didn't work at all underwater. He had to rely on the boiling charm to heat the water, which also behaved differently. On land, it could boil a pot of water that he pointed the wand at, but underwater, it would immediately boil the water at the tip of his wand. The wave charm, as they had suspected, only worked on the water's surface, not underneath. Other standard duelling spells, like the severing charm, disarming charm, bludgeoning hex, and stunning hex moved slower through the water than through the air, and the spells themselves looked shorter and brighter, as if they were compressed. Harry spent much of his time re-learning his aim, while Hermione kept working on the modified bubble-head and warming charms so she could teach Harry after she'd perfected the spells. They decided to leave mapping out the Black Lake until next week, after they were both comfortable enough with casting underwater to defend themselves and Hedwig could return with a larger batch of gillyweed.

* * *

Their first day of classes began on a brighter note as Hedwig flew in, delivering his first package of gillyweed. She was tired from the long-distance flight, but turned out to be quite proud that Harry would rely on her for the same flight again, but with an even larger package. Harry gave her his entire plate of bacon as a reward. Neville stood by them when some of the others looked at them suspiciously. Luna offered her condolences, suggesting that next time, they should wear the entire potted flumpet instead of just a few flowers so that the nargles didn't steal their night away. Harry chuckled at that. The twins were putting on a good show with Colin, bribing him for pictures of Ron at the ball, who was desperately trying to get them destroyed.

_The Daily Prophet_ arrived in the middle of breakfast with the other post-owls. Harry and Hermione were both anticipating the bad news in the papers, quite possibly all across the front page. It wasn't nearly as bad as they thought. News of Harry's collapse took up only half of the front page, with the other half devoted to Cedric and Fleur, the new darling celebrity couple. All the girls with subscriptions to _Witch Weekly _were distracted with the arrival of their magazine. Harry read the front page article.

**Harry Potter Collapses at the Stroke of Midnight**

_By Gwendolyn Farewither_

_The New Year's Ball was a stunning event, as everyone expected. For the youngest champion, however, it seems that it was quite literally stunning. After a tiring night of dancing, the excitement of the final countdown to the new year ended in his fainting on the spot. Initially, the aurors suspected that it could have been an attack on the champion, and took no chances when they immediately moved Mr. Potter to the Hospital wing under guard and took in Mr. Potter's date, one Hermione Granger, for questioning. The other partygoers were quickly questioned in a very efficient manner under the direction of Auror captain Kingsley Shacklebolt._

_Thankfully, the excitement was all for naught as Mr. Potter recovered quickly with a few reinvigoration potions. Miss Granger's questioning was cut short when Mr. Potter personally arrived at the Tournament Security office at Hogwarts._

"_Miss Granger's story was confirmed by Mr. Potter himself. They spoke to Professor Dumbledore regarding the details of the event, as it was no longer a criminal investigation," explained Captain Shacklebolt. "He told us that he has a muggle condition which makes him prone to fainting."_

_This condition, called Eplesky (no relation to the basic healing charm), is unheard of in the Wizarding World, but it bears similarity to the Seer's Swoon. To the lament of Professor Trelawney, Mr. Potter has chosen to drop his Divination class this year, as he apparently had little talent for making predictions, although many predictions about him were made by others. It is unknown whether or not the condition is contagious._

The rest of the article simply described, through the account of others, how Harry enjoyed the night, and included a few pictures of him with the other champions when they were waiting outside the Great Hall. "Well, it could have been worse," Harry said. "But this is kind of scary, how fainting is... um... linked to visions." Seeing the confused look on Neville's face, he added, "I don't want Trelawney hounding me all over again."

"Ugh! They couldn't even get the spelling right! Of course it's not contagious!" Hermione was too annoyed at wizarding culture in general to hear Harry. "This isn't a muggle disease, it affects the human brain! Some wizards must suffer it, too!"

"Maybe they do, but they just think it's the Seer's Swoon," suggested Harry.

"That's as bad as muggles a few hundred years ago. They thought it was demonic possession or something. The wizarding world is so backwards!" Hermione grumbled.

"You wouldn't faint from demonic possession," Neville said. "Your body would burn to ashes from the inside out. That kind of stuff is scary, there hasn't even been a dark wizard insane enough to try it for the last few centuries. You-know-who was scary, but at least he isn't crazy enough to try _that_."

Harry and Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed. "Where did you hear about something like that? Professor Binns never talks about those kinds of things in History of Magic."

"It's a bedtime story, all wizards grow up with it..." Neville told them. "Oh... right, you two wouldn't know about that..."

As they read through the paper, a familiar name came up as Harry expected another slanderous article. This time, though, the article wasn't about him.

**Muggleborn Setting Sights on Harry Potter?**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_On New Year's Eve, one particular witch seemed to have made a pretty lofty resolution: to snag herself Harry Potter. Sporting an outrageously provocative dress that was obviously of muggle origin, she remained at Mr. Potter's side throughout the night and refused to allow anyone else to dance with him. Mr. Potter, however, couldn't take his eyes off another girl, Fleur Delacour, all night long. One needed only a quick glance to tell his heart lusted after only one other, and it certainly wasn't some muggleborn witch._

_She undoubtedly had been determined to make this her night, planning ages in advance. Anyone spending this much time and effort would, of course, have a backup plan in case something went wrong. After handing him a glass of cider to celebrate the new year, Potter collapsed after drinking it._

"_I've never seen her look the way she did that night. She obviously used plenty of glamours to primp herself up. You won't believe how ugly she is in class," said Miss Parkinson. "The only thing she's got is her smarts, and you know boys won't ever notice how __**smart**__ a girl is from across the room. I wouldn't put it past her to try a potion on Potter. She thinks she can outwit the professors."_

_The aurors have already closed the investigation, saying Mr. Potter would not be pressing charges and, in fact, went to retrieve the suspect from the interrogation himself. They failed to mention, however, how eccentric he was acting the moment he awoke._

"_She was the first thing he asked about the moment he awoke," auror Verne, the officer assigned to guarding Potter in Hogwarts' hospital wing, told us. "He was obsessed with her, I'd say. Couldn't have been thinking clearly to do what he did." The auror declined to comment further under orders from his captain._

_How does a boy go from stepping all over his date's toes while watching another girl on the dance floor , then collapsing after a drink, to dashing across the castle to "save" a muggleborn witch? You don't have to be an arithmancer to see how this adds up._

"Alright, she can slander me all she wants, but you're off limits," Harry growled. "Keep the map on you, and find her during the Trial of Water."

"This article is... so... _racist!_" Hermione looked aghast. "She didn't even bother writing my name! She just kept calling me the 'muggleborn girl'! This is... I can't... ahhhrg!" She threw the paper down in disgust.

"I didn't really notice," Neville said sheepishly. "I mean, I know she was talking about Hermione, but this is pretty normal for newspapers. Muggleborns don't really get mentioned by name in the papers unless they do something really amazing. Or marry into a wizarding family." Both Harry and Hermione were shocked at the insight into wizarding culture that Neville had provided them. It seemed that, while the general attitude among the students was pretty accepting of muggleborns, that was a relatively new idea that had only come after the last war with Voldemort ended. It was no wonder he managed to gain such a strong following twenty years ago.

* * *

Their sour mood didn't abate by the time they arrived in potions class, but that worked to Harry's advantage. He walked into the room feeling very vindictive. In Harry's absence, Neville had taken to partnering with Hermione for their potions, and as a result, his potions were far better than before. Harry didn't want to ruin a good thing, and he was prepared for his own potion to get rather messy.

"I see the great last-place champion has finally decided to grace us with his presence," drawled Snape as Harry entered to classroom. The Slytherins laughed. Harry stayed silent, knowing he'd be using his "champion immunity" to limit that day. Seeing no reaction, Snape continued to taunt Harry. "I suppose losing so badly has made you finally realize that flying on a broom all day won't win you the tournament, hm? I'm afraid to say that you won't be able to make up for your poor performance by attempting to learn something now."

"I sure won't!" Harry agreed enthusiastically. Everyone turned to stare at him. "Using potions in a duel is against the rules. I'm just here out of curiosity. You're not going to teach me anything useful, Snape." The Gryffindors were shocked by his candour, while the Slytherins were glaring at him venomously at the slight against their head of house. _Well, they won't be focusing on Hermione now, _Harry thought. _Part one: success!_

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter, and another ten for not addressing your professor properly." Snape snarled.

"You can't do that, Snape. I'm not a student in your class, and you're not my professor. I told you, I'm just a visitor today, as the non-affiliated fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament." Harry snickered to himself.

"I can't teach an insolent brat like you!" shouted Snape angrily.

"Can't teach, period," muttered Harry. "Are you going to start the lesson, Snape?"

With his jaw clenched tight, the Potions professor indicated on the board the ingredients for the reinvigoration potion. "If you've all studied the formula over the holidays as I asked, you should know the exact order these ingredients combine together to create the Reinvigoration Potion. You will all work in pairs, except you, Potter. I can't have a dunderhead bringing down the quality of one of the _real_ students' potions."

Harry nearly laughed aloud when Snape announced the subject. Neville and Hermione were amused, as well. Last month, during duelling training, all of them had been brewing the potion multiple times a day. Harry could do it while he was exhausted. Neville didn't need Hermione's help for this one. All three also noticed two unnecessary ingredients, one of which would cause the potion to taste worse, and the other would make it fail horribly. Neither was taught on the fourth-year curriculum until the end, which Harry had already finished. The Slytherins had been warned by Snape before class. Harry wondered how he could get that information to the other Gryffindors.

As he walked up to the ingredient cabinet, he saw an all-too-familiar face. "Hey, Draco. I'm surprised you weren't expelled," Harry said with a wild grin on his face. "How much did it cost your father to keep you in school?"

"Shut it, Potter," was Draco's only reply. Surprisingly, even around other Slytherins, he no longer had the same bossy confidence as before. He only commanded the respect of Crabbe and Goyle now, who Harry suspected only hung out with him under orders from their parents. It seemed that they all knew Draco's wand was snapped and he'd just received a new one.

Harry decided to bait Snape by deliberately picking up the unnecessary ingredients. He knew Snape was watching him as he carried all the listed ingredients back to his workbench. Hermione and Neville looked at him questioningly, but he just winked. He began preparing the initial few ingredients, throwing them into the cauldron. Others were doing the same, as it was a commonly-used potion base. When he noticed others were having trouble and trying to figure out the remaining ingredients, however, he picked up the shrewberries and very nearly dropped them into his cauldron, but paused. Knowing Snape was eagerly awaiting the chance to humiliate him for an improper potion, he started eating the berries instead.

"Potter! Why are you _eating_ one of your ingredients?" Snape roared. Once again, everyone turned to stare at him as he continued eating.

"Tastes good," Harry said. "And I'm hungry. Why not?"

"Only a fool such as yourself would eat a raw potion ingredient! Why don't you try the hornpepper next?"

"Too spicy. Besides, it needs to be properly prepared or else it'll kill you. The shrewberries, on the other hand, are perfectly fine to eat straight from the bush. They're just a flavour enhancer," Harry explained, watching Snape lose his composure. He just needed a little more to tip him over the edge. "But I really have to wonder if your potions mastery is legitimate, Snape, if you think shrewberries aren't good to eat- or if they should be part of a Reinvigoration draught at all."

"You think _you_ know enough about potions to challenge my authority? Tell me, Potter, do you know what are the proper buffers to mix dragon's blood and giant's blood in a single potion?" Snape challenged.

"Oh, stop trying to change the subject," Harry said casually waving his hand dismissively at Snape. "Even a fourth-year knows that shrewberries make things taste _worse_ if you use them in a potion that also has aconite bark." Suddenly, half the Gryffindors looked down at their own benches and moved the berries off to the side. A few of them even ate the berries themselves. Snape furiously began deducting points from the students who followed Harry's lead. "And what on earth is the dried newt tail doing here? It'll just make the potion explode! I really have to question your credentials." There was another flurry of movement as the Gryffindors moved yet another ingredient away from their cauldrons.

"Detention, Potter!" roared Snape.

"Can't do that, remember? I'm just visiting," Harry reminded him.

"I'll be sure to fail you! You'll never get to write the OWL!" Snape was now seething.

"You're saying you can fail me in a class I won't take until next year? That really shows your professionalism, Snape."

The fuming professor drew his wand. Harry was prepared to defend himself, but Snape only vanished his potion. "Get out of my class, Potter!"

"You're not allowed to throw me out, Snape. That would be a blatant violation of the rights for all Triwizard champions to have equal education and resources at Hogwarts." He went to the cabinet to grab more potions ingredients, but Snape tried to stop him.

"Do not waste my potions ingredients, Potter. You've already used up your share," Snape spat.

"I didn't waste anything, Snape. _You're_ the one who vanished my potion, which you should have known, if you really are a potions master, was brewing perfectly. It's well within my rights to get a chance to practice brewing this potion when I've done nothing wrong. Besides, there's still plenty of time left in class for this potion." He continued to gather the ingredients again, making sure to grab another measure of berries.

"You already know the berries aren't necessary for the potion, Potter. Why are you still taking them?" hissed Snape.

Popping another one in his mouth, Harry pointed to the front of the room and said, "It's still up there on the board. You've told us all to grab the berries for _something_, and if it's not as a part of the potion, I think it's to keep us energized while we brew this. Potions is such a boring subject."

He spent the remainder of class brewing his potion and grinning like mad at Snape as much as he could, taunting him to try something else. So distracted by Harry's behaviour, he forgot to pester the other students. Nearly everyone managed to brew at least a passable reinvigoration potion, but Snape still tried to fail a few Gryffindors. Harry left, feeling it was the best potions class he'd had... and quite possibly, would ever have. He should have put the champions' visitation rights to use months ago.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I'm pretty big on outdoors, and I've scuba dived at the Great Barrier Reef. It's beautiful, but it might not last much longer as the ocean becomes more acidic as CO2 levels increase. Enjoy it while you can. I want to write a bunch on H/Hr travelling to the Sahara Magical Nature Preserve but that won't happen for many, many chapters.

- I totally would have done that to Snape myself the instant I discovered I could. Heck, he should have done this in canon. He knew he didn't have to take the exams, and since Snape doesn't teach at all, he probably could have just skipped class and taught himself straight from the textbook in an empty classroom and done better.


	25. The Trial of Water

**Author's Notes:**

- Potter belongs to Rowling

- I originally planned to have another "preparation" chapter as well as a "trial" chapter, but then I realized the Trial of Water wouldn't have nearly as much action as the Trial of Air, so I just made it one longer chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 25: The Trial of Water**

When Hedwig returned a few days later with the big batch of gillyweed, Harry and Hermione had both become used to casting spells underwater and were confident they could both defend themselves as well as perform an 'emergency escape,' which was the modified bubblehead charm and the featherweight charm nonverbally, underwater. At the side of the Black Lake, they warded a little private area for their exploration trips. Standing at the edge of the water with a few extra layers of robes, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Are you ready?"

She nodded in response. Casting warming charms on themselves, they shrugged off the robes and popped a dose of gillyweed in their mouths. It was springy and rubbery, and as they chewed it, it squirted some of its juices out. Thankfully, it didn't taste that bad. They wouldn't have to gag while keeping it in their mouths. As soon as breathing air began to feel uncomfortable, they jumped into the water. It only took a few seconds for the transformation to complete. Their hands became webbed as their feet grew larger and flatter. Slits opened up at their ribcages as water passed straight through their lungs. It was an odd feeling for Harry to get used to. The first thing they noticed about the lake was that the water was salty, but that it also tasted _right_. They gulped down their first few breaths of water. The next was that the water was a bit too warm- cancelling their warming charms, it felt much more comfortable.

He looked over to Hermione, who signalled to him that she was fine. They began swimming slowly away from the shore. Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and quill, charmed to be waterproof, and began making sketches. Harry did the same. While neither of them had any proper cartography tools or training, they only needed the maps to be accurate enough for Harry to recognize some underwater landmarks.

The shallowest regions of the lake seemed rather ordinary. They only saw a few fish that darted away before they came anywhere nearby. They had to move deeper to see anything useful for navigation. Below them was a thick kelp forest. Neither of them could see the bottom, and they were both wary of the dangers that could be lurking in there. They swam over it, trying to keep track of how far they were moving as they sketched out their maps.

Suddenly, Harry noticed movement just below him. He whipped out his wand just in time to throw a bludgeoner at a grindylow that darted out from the kelp. Hermione, who was still sketching, was caught off guard as another grindylow went for her and wrapped its long fingers around her leg. Harry blasted it off with a bludgeoner while Hermione released her wand from her holster. They were quickly firing bludgeoning hexes all around them as a pack of grindylows swarmed towards them from below. They both swam upwards so they were a good three meters above the kelp again, easily picking off the few foolish grindylows that still tried to attack them. The rest retreated back to the safety of the kelp. Hermione quickly added a note to her map: "Grindylow packs!" she scribbled.

Harry knew that, on the day of the tournament, he could be doing all that again, except without Hermione as backup. They continued along the path they were on before, except higher above the kelp. Harry kept his wand out while Hermione continued mapping. The kelp ended at a cliff, where the lake rapidly got deeper. Harry couldn't see the bottom. Nodding to each other, they both swam down. Harry lit his wand with _lumos_, which gave them a few meters of visibility. They could see the lake bed, which Harry guessed was about fifteen meters from the surface. He could barely see the sunlight from this depth.

They continued along the bottom, taking note of anything peculiar. They passed by an old, rotting shipwreck. _How did such a huge ship get here? _wondered Harry. _Then again, how did the Durmstrang ship get here? _ There were a few small caves and alcoves in the rockier parts of the lake, a few of which had creatures lurking inside. They even passed by the giant squid at some point. Harry had no idea how to defend himself against such a monstrous creature, but thankfully, he didn't have to. It swam past without any hostility. Harry could swear it even waved a tentacle at them as it left. They continued on, enjoying the sights that the lake had to offer, but ever cautious of another attack. They stopped cold, quite literally, when they reached the jellice breeding grounds. They were especially active at this time of year, and they could both feel the drop in temperature as the saw a giant ice structure anchored to the rocks with the creatures swarming over it. Individually, they would have been invisible, but the huge mass of semi-transparent blobs was hard to miss. They decided to cut their exploration short here, as the Gillyweed was due to wear off soon anyway.

As they surfaced, Hermione took note of where they were. They could still see their robes and shoes in a pile at the shore underneath their notice-me-not wards at a distance. Two hours of exploration and they had only managed to map out about a quarter of the lake. They knew what would keep them busy right up until the Trial of Water.

* * *

Harry and Hermione found that they had to do most of the work in preparation for the trial. Moody, unfortunately, wasn't much help with this trial. "Not many wizards think of hiding in a lake," was his excuse. "If they do, I'd just blast them from above on my broom." They still had their Saturday morning practice with him, as Harry knew he still had a lot to learn about combat and duelling. Luna and Neville couldn't accompany them, either. Neville had only just become comfortable with getting his face in the water. They ended up heading to the Black Lake every day after class, spending about two hours under the surface each day.

Over the next week, the two of them had several close encounters in the lake. Harry insisted on practicing defending both of them against Grindylows, causing him to take a few scratches while chivalrously leaving Hermione unscathed in the encounters. They also wandered into what they thought was another kelp forest, but turned out to be the edge of the merfolk village, where they had their kelp farms. They were nearly speared as they attempted to make apologetic motions to the merman-farmer. They swam away as quickly as they could and circled the entire village, taking note of where its borders were. The next day, they found where the old textbook had said the mer-village _had_ been a few hundred years ago- there were many abandoned structures and the area seemed to be infested with some kind of red, bubbling coral- the water in the area was warmer, too. There were some other humanoid creatures there, poking at the coral with rocks and kelp stalks, playing around in the abandoned buildings. They resembled merfolk, but were smaller and had smooth skin, unlike the scales that merfolk had. _Selkies_, Harry remembered. _Aren't they only supposed to be in the ocean? In fact, how did the merfolk get to the lake in the first place, anyway?_

Harry found his answer in the form of an underwater tunnel. It appeared to be an underground river that passed directly underneath the Hogwarts grounds. They swam for several minutes, but as it appeared to have no ending, they decided to turn back. They figured it lead to the ocean at some point. On the way back, he noticed something man-made on the side of the underwater cavern. It was a huge disc, partially hidden because it had clams and algae growing all over it. At the center, however, was a familiar design. Harry tried whispering in parseltongue, _~Open.~_ Even though his voice came out muffled by the water, the cover slid open, grinding away the molluscs from its surface. They both cautiously entered. It opened up to a small cavern, filled with air, and several large pipes leading away, much like the entrance from the second-floor girls' bathroom. They were both sure this was an alternate entrance to the chamber of secrets, but couldn't explore further until the gillyweed wore off. They went back to the shore, preferring to be where they left their clothes once they returned to their fully human form.

They managed to finish mapping out the lake in four days, but continued to swim for the remaining days to make sure he was even more familiar with the lake. Swimming at full speed from one end of the lake to the other, he could make the distance in about fifteen minutes. A very quick, rough search without checking the nooks and crannies would take an hour and a half. With the map in hand and remembering some of the better hiding places, a good search still took twice that long. Thankfully, his regular appearances helped him become more familiar with the "locals" of the lake. The mermen noticed him coming by and merely watched him as he took his usual route around the outside of the village, not quite on their guard as much as his first encounter. They also managed to encounter the giant squid every time. It seemed to enjoy chasing them down for fun, but it was never actually hostile. He found out that the selkies wandered everywhere around the lake, and some occasionally swam down through the tunnel, although the boiling-coral infested areas seemed to be their favourite, along with the jellice breeding ground. Some of the more curious ones actually swam up to Harry and Hermione, prodding them playfully with some kelp stalks before swimming away quickly and watching their reaction. _Well, why not? _thought Harry, and decided to work on his swimming speed and agility by playing tag with them. He kept losing, being unable to keep up with actual aquatic creatures, but it was still a fun way to end his training.

* * *

"You have the map?" Harry asked as they walked down the path towards the lake.

"It should be in your belt!" Hermione answered. "Along with your gillyweed capsules..."

"No, I'm talking about the Marauder's Map. Your job is to catch Rita in the act today," Harry said.

"We still haven't figured out what to do with her after I've found her," Hermione protested. "I mean, she apparently hasn't done anything illegal, so I can't get Auror Shacklebolt to arrest her or anything."

"Well, at least figure out what she looks like. And try to stop her from getting any good quotes. I don't know, maybe you can set her parchment on fire or something. Just stop her from writing about me... or you!"

"And you just focus on the trial, Harry. Good luck!" She gave him a quick kiss as they parted ways. Harry stepped into the champion's tent while Hermione went to the stands.

All four of the champions were there early, and all of them were dressed for the occasion. Harry was having trouble keeping his eyes off Fleur even without her aura, but so were the other two boys. Oddly enough, Fleur was the one looking the most distracted as she kept nervously glancing out towards the lake.

"Something wrong, sweetie?" Cedric asked her, rubbing her shoulders.

"Ze water is not ze best place for me," Fleur answered. "Much like ze Trial of Air for you, I only 'ope not to do too poorly for zis trial." She sighed, and then brushed Cedric's hands away. "And for today, I am your competitor, not your 'sweetie' Monsieur Diggory," she added.

"Right you are, then," Cedric laughed. "I've got a school to represent."

Krum was keeping quiet. Without robes covering him, his well-toned, athletic body was visible to everyone. He was obviously well-fed and well-trained, the byproduct of being both a professional athlete and now the favoured student of Durmstrang. Harry wondered how well Krum knew the lake. He'd seen Krum dive into the waters often to swim, but never once saw him at the bottom while he was doing his mapping. Then again, it was a pretty big lake. He hadn't seen Cedric or Fleur in the lake, either. He was sure they didn't know about the Room of Requirement, either, so where else could they have trained?

His thoughts were cut short as Ludo Bagman walked in. "Well well, everybody's here already! Then let's get started with the event, shall we? The ground rules for this trial are the same as the Trial of Air- no casting directly against your fellow champion on top of the other rules for the entire tournament. There are two additional rules. First, no casting spells against humanoid creatures, including the Merfolk or their property underwater. You can rest assured that they will not attack you."

_Oh, good,_ thought Harry. _Those mermen guards looked vicious, even after they got used to me._ It was also the one part of the lake that Harry was unable to map.

"Secondly, there are four chests in the water today. Each of you will retrieve one of them. The second rule, of course, is that you may not take the chest from another champion who has laid their hands on."

_So, a treasure hunt,_ thought Harry. Looking around the room, it seemed that nobody was surprised in the least.

"Inside each chest is a golden egg. You must get the egg out of the chest and return to shore in three hours or less."

_Another egg? Well, at least I brought five hours' worth of gillyweed just in case. _Harry unconsciously patted his belt. _But a thorough search, for me, still takes three hours... and I've been exploring the lake every day for the past week! There had better be an easier way to find them..._

"And finally, I'll leave you all with a hint. Listen to the song." Bagman smiled at them and left.

_I hope that means the song will lead us to the chest..._

An hour later, the stands were once again packed with spectators as the four champions stood at the edge of the dock. The first-years' boats had all been put away and the dock was dressed up so that it was far prettier than before. It was carpeted for the champions' bare feet, and the dressing-room tent placed at the end. The judges sat at a long table along the length of the dock so the champions had to walk past all of them to reach the water. At the very end were a drop-gate and a large clock, ready to count down from three hours, hung above. They were all waiting at the gate, eager for the trial to finally begin.

As a bang sounded from the judge's table behind them, the gate dropped and three of the champions dove in immediately. Harry popped a capsule into his mouth and began chewing. _I guess nobody else bothered getting themselves gillyweed_, he thought amusedly as he felt his body begin to change. As soon as he jumped in the water, he heard a noise he'd never encountered during his explorations. Calming down, he realized it was a song, but coming from multiple sources, causing it to overlap and sound distorted. _Which way to go first?_ _Left is the squid's nest. Right is the selkie hunting grounds._ Harry decided to go left. The squid was friendly enough, but maybe the other champions wouldn't know that and it would be a perfect distraction for them- if the squid was actually resting at its nest, of course. The selkies, on the other hand, were rather unpredictable. They might help or hinder him, depending on their mood.

He moved quickly through the water, having learned how to take full advantage of his gillyweed-morphed body, including his breathing technique. The minute-long head start that the others got was quickly eliminated when he saw Cedric swimming up ahead. He was using the modified bubble-head for breathing and had transfigured something into fins to wear on his feet. Harry waved as he passed by. He didn't see Fleur or Krum along the way, so he assumed they went in the other direction. He raced ahead, following the source of the music for several minutes. He stopped dead in the water when he realized he was right on top of it. If the chest was the source of the song, it was right below him- and in the middle of a kelp forest.

The kelp itself was extremely tall- almost ten meters in length. It could be packed with grindylows all the way down, and it was so thick he wouldn't even be able to see his own hand if he stuck it out in front of him. But on the other hand, Cedric would catch up soon- and Bagman had warned them that a champion couldn't take a chest that another champion had reached, right? He couldn't afford to let Cedric get to this one first or else he'd have to go search for another. He threw a few slicing curses straight down, causing some of the stalks to float away. There was some movement below as a few creatures ducked away. Harry couldn't tell if it was fish, grindylows, or something else. Casting a few more, he figured he was close to the lake bed by now, so he lit up the area with a light spell. He could make out something boxy at the bottom, but still mostly obscured by the long, leafy plants.

By now, Cedric had nearly caught up to him, following the same source of music. _Well, now or never!_ Harry thought. He dove down as quickly as he could, and grabbed the box. As soon as he touched it, there was small flash, and instead of just a song, there were lyrics as well. He didn't have time to listen to it as he sensed many, many eyes on him. _Oh no,_he thought. _Here they come._

Tightening the grip on his wand, he grabbed the chest with his other hand and swam up as quickly as he could. As soon as he moved, something grabbed his foot. He didn't even think as he blasted the grindylow away, but another lunged at his thigh. He kept firing off blasting curses while kicking as hard as he could, but they were swarming him. One was on his leg and another had its fingers around his neck. Sticking his wand behind him, he cast blindly, but a third grindylow gripped his right arm just as he released the spell, causing him to lose his grip. Desperate not to lose his wand, he let go of the chest as he punched the grindylow away with all his might. Freed of the extra weight and now with another hand to fight off the creatures, he continued blasting with his right and punching with his left. He was quickly free from the creatures as he hovered above the kelp once again. Back to square one, it seemed.

Cedric had paused to watch him. Seeing Harry fail to retrieve the chest, he dove down while casting a modified cyclone shield around himself. This one created a vortex of water that pushed away anything that was approaching him as he went straight for the chest. Harry could see a few grindylows get knocked around as they tried to grab Cedric. Upon reaching the chest, however, there was another flash of light and Cedric was pushed away. Shaking his head, he surfaced and gestured towards Harry, as if saying, "It's all yours," as he swam off to find the next one.

Harry couldn't perform the cyclone shield nonverbally yet, and trying to talk underwater made nearly all the incanted spells useless, but he couldn't cast his basic bludgeoners and blasting curses fast enough. There _was_ one spell he could use that he could simply hold continuously, though it would barely injure the grindylows, it might make them uncomfortable enough to stop trying to catch him. Positioning himself straight above the chest again, he cast the water-boiling spell. He swam down in a spiral so that he would surround himself in a shield of hot water, but was careful not to burn himself. Nothing attacked him on the way down. Grabbing the chest again, he swam up as quickly as he could, in a spin again. One of the grindylows tried to attack, but he held his wand towards it and it quickly flinched away. He maintained the spell until he was once again clear of the kelp and immediately began searching for a safe clearing to work on opening the chest.

As he settled down in an empty alcove, he realized he was getting extremely tired and gasping for oxygen, gulping the water as quickly as he could. _Was that really that tiring?_ he thought. He then noticed his fingers weren't quite as webbed as before and he realized that his gillyweed was running out. Popping another half-hour capsule in his mouth, he nearly had to cast an bubble-head charm on himself to keep breathing before the gill slits in his chest returned to full size. _Well, at least I know it's been half an hour_, he thought. He inspected the box, noticing a small plate at the top now bore his name along with a time inscription: 0:16:56. That must have been when he first touched it. It was locked shut with three differently-shaped locks, none of which had keyholes. He listened carefully to the song that it was repeating over and over:

_You have nearly claimed your prize_

_The egg you seek is just inside_

_The first lock doesn't like this taste_

_But do not quench its thirst with haste_

_The second latch thinks it's too warm_

_But it must grasp a solid form_

_A cold, the third's about to catch_

_It bickers with that second latch_

_Before I'm open, I'll say clearly_

_That I love the water dearly_

_Do not let me take a breath_

_Because it will be my death_

The final warning was the easiest to understand. If it touched air, it "died," and that almost certainly meant he'd fail the trial. Second latch was easy- it's too warm even in this chilly lake in January, so it needed to be colder... and any colder and the water would be frozen. It needed a solid block of ice. Harry cast a freezing charm at nothing in particular, aiming to freeze the water at the tip of his wand. The water got colder, but didn't freeze. _That was odd, _he thought as he poured more strength into the spell. He finally managed to see frost crystals sprout from the end of his wand and jabbed it towards the latch. It clicked open. _Success!_ he thought. However, the tiny ice cube he had created quickly melted and the latch shut itself tight again. He sighed, but left it shut, thinking, _At least I know how to open it later._

He then looked at the first latch. It doesn't like the taste? What could it possibly be tasting? Harry thought about licking it for a second to see if something was on it, but decided that was ridiculous. There was also the fact that he was probably being watched by a large audience, with his image being projected in front of all the stands. _Alright, there's got to be a way to do this with dignity,_ he thought. He waited until the song repeated and listened to the line afterwards. _Quench its thirst? But we're sitting in water already_... He then realized what it meant. He was sitting in _salt_ water. That was why the freezing spell needed more effort than usual as well. Now how could he purify the water around him? There was the simple water-cleaning spell used for potions (which Snape never taught, forcing all the students to use his pre-distilled water. Harry was sure he gave the cleanest water to the Slytherins). He tried using it on the lock. No luck, as the clean water quickly mixed and got swept away in the small currents before the latch unlocked. _Aguamenti might do the trick,_ Harry surmised. It always conjured fresh, drinkable water, after all. He held his wand right next to the latch to be sure he could cover it with the stream of water from his wand. After ten seconds, he wondered if it was really working, but the line _did_ tell him not to be hasty. He kept his wand on for a little longer. After thirty seconds of spraying fresh water onto the lock, it popped open. He ended the spell thankfully, and the latch closed again. _Thirty seconds to open it up and only one second to close again. That's just not fair, _he complained to nobody in particular.

The third latch supposedly bickered with the second. It made a bit more sense now. The second latch needed ice, so he shot a jet of boiling water at the third. After a few seconds, the latch popped open, closing just as quickly when he finished his spell. Harry realized the problem immediately. He could, with a bit more effort, freeze a bigger block of ice for the middle lock easily. But the first lock took thirty seconds of fresh water and closed after one second. The last lock took about five seconds of boiling water and also closed after one second. He sat around for a few moments, thinking about what to do. He either needed a more permanent source of fresh water or heat. He pulled out his map, looking over all the little notes that he and Hermione had made over the past few days.

_The boiling coral!_ he realized. The nearest batch was at the abandoned mer-village, where the selkies liked to play. Harry picked up the chest and began to swim as fast as he could. It took him about fifteen minutes to get there while lugging the chest with him, forcing him to take out another dose of gillyweed on the way. He did pass by the huge, jellice ice-structure along the way and thought about breaking off a chunk of ice, but he could freeze the water easily enough, now that he knew he just had to give the spell a bit of extra strength. As he reached the coral, he saw the selkies playing again, this time a few of them had skewered some jellices on bits of wood (presumably from the shipwreck) and were cooking them on the coral. _I wonder what they taste like_. He didn't waste any time trying it, though, as he picked up a rock and broke off a chunk of the coral, which continued to bubble as it fell into the sand below. Realizing he needed to pick it up, he transfigured the rock into a pair of tongs, then stuck the piece of coral to the third lock with a simple sticking charm. Five seconds later, the latch clicked open and stayed open. Harry quickly poured as much effort as he could freezing the water at the tip of his wand. Within seconds, he had a fist-sized block of ice, which he stuck to the middle latch with another sticking charm. The ice block was melting rapidly beside the burning coral, and Harry hoped it would last long enough for him to open the first as well. He shot a strong jet of fresh water at the first latch, constantly watching the block of ice shrink. It had diminished to the size of a pea when all thre clicked open and the lid swung open. The plate at the top of the chest flashed again, now displaying a second time of 1:08:26. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he scooped up the egg. The entire chest disappeared when he had the egg in his hands.

He quickly swam back to the docks, but then realized the problem. He just ate the gillyweed a few minutes ago. He'd have to wait about twenty mintues for it to wear off before he could climb out of the water. He glumly lingered just below the dock, swimming back and forth with nothing to do. A few minutes later, a few selkies swam up to him, wanting to play. They were eyeing the egg. Harry instinctively gripped the egg tighter, and, to be safe, cast the strongest non-permanent sticking charm on it. One lunged towards the egg just after he completed the charm, and he spun out of the way. The other selkies laughed as they copied the first one, each one lunching towards the egg as Harry pulled it out of their path at the last second. A few of them came close to grabbing the egg, while some others crashed right into him. He knew it was against the rules to hurt the selkies, and he didn't want to hurt them anyway. They were just being playful, after all. The impromptu game of bullfighting ended when Harry felt the gillyweed wearing off and he swam to the surface as quickly as he could.

He was greeted with loud cheers and applause as his final time came out to be just under one and a half hours. He stepped into the medical tent for his checkup, where the mediwitches congratulated him, saying, "You've won first place in this event! Fantastic show, Mr. Potter!" He was a bit perplexed by this as he saw Krum sitting outside the tent.

"I won?" he asked. "Isn't Krum the winner? I saw him outside."

"Oh, well... you'll find out about that when they ask for the scores," the mediwitch said. "Just between you and me... well, I'm not supposed to say this, you know, healer-patient confidentiality and all, but... you probably shouldn't talk to him right now. He's... grumpier than usual."

The mediwitch unstuck the egg from his hand for him, and after everything else checked out, they sent him to the dressing-room tent, where he put on warm robes and shoes. Back outside, Harry looked towards the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hermione. He couldn't see her anywhere. He then looked further, towards the journalist and photographers' section, hoping to see her keeping Skeeter busy. No such luck there, either. Sighing, he slumped down onto a chair to watch how Cedric and Fleur were doing on the images projected by the display orbs. Cedric still toting his chest along, probably in search of the boiling coral or something else to help him with the latches. Fleur was chasing down some selkies who had taken her trunk, but since they couldn't cast spells against them, and Fleur was far from graceful in the water, she was having trouble getting it back. The audience was concentrating on her, which was the most amusing thing to watch at the moment. Harry wondered if they had watched him play with the selkies for twenty minutes before climbing out, as well. The trial ended just before the time limit, after two hours and fifty minutes. Fleur had taken the longest, and could only get her chest back after the selkies got bored with it. Cedric finished not too long after Harry began watching. It was now time to announce the scores.

"In fourth place is Mr. Viktor Krum of Durmstrang, with a score of eighteen points. Mr. Krum was the second to find a chest, which earned him twenty points. Unfortunately, when a few selkies decided to have some fun, he cast a spell against them, which is an infraction that cost him ten points as well as the rest of the trial. He did earn back eight points for demonstrating a strong swimming ability and an excellent offensive against a pack of grindylows. Mr. Krum will enter the final task without an egg from the Trial of Water."

_No wonder he looked furious,_ Harry thought. His eyes darted over to his competitor. Krum looked like he was about to murder Bagman for essentially announcing his failure to the world. Eighteen points was the lowest score of any of them had received in any of the trials so far.

"In third place is Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons, with a score of forty-five. Miss Delacour was the last to retrieve her chest, earning her ten points, and also the third to open the chest, earning fifteen, and third to leave the water with her egg, for another fifteen points. She earned five bonus points for being the quickest to solve the riddle of the locks... once she finally had possession of her chest." The audience got a laugh as a sequence of Fleur chasing the selkies was replayed. Fleur's dissatisfaction was offset by the fact that, despite her poor performance, she still wasn't in last place, and she managed to keep her head held high.

"In second place is Mr. Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts, with a score of sixty-seven. Mr. Diggory was the third to find a chest, giving him fifteen points, and the second to open his, earning him twenty, and the second to exit the water with the egg, earning him another twenty points. He also gets an extra fifteen points for excellent demonstrations of a modified cyclone-shield charm, modified bubble-head charm, and an extreme skilful partial human transfiguration of his feet. He did, however, lose three points for attempting to touch Harry Potter's treasure chest."

Cedric shrugged sheepishly as he leaned towards Harry. "Hey, I had to give it a shot," he said.

"Finally, in first place is Mr. Harry Potter, with a score of ninety-five points. Mr. Potter was the first to find a chest, first to open it, and the first to exit the water with his egg. Each of these feats earned him twenty-five points. In addition, he will receive an additional twenty bonus points for excellent use of gillyweed and a nearly flawless performance throughout the entire trial. The only thing keeping him from a perfect score was poor timing with his gillyweed and a rather simplistic repertoire of spells."

_Hey, don't blame me if I stick with what I'm good at,_ Harry thought. He wasn't complaining, though, as he had just scored the highest score in the tournament thus far. _I guess good planning and preparation can still beat Krum_, he concluded happily. This single trial was enough to vault him from last place to a first-place lead. With everyone clapping and cheering wildly, he looked around the stands for Hermione, but she was still missing. He was now getting antsy, wondering if something had happened to her during the trial. He was ushered back into the champion's tent.

"Congratulations on a fine performance and a wonderfully entertaining Trial of Water, champions!" Bagman happily proclaimed. Unfortunately for him, he was met with unamused glares from Krum and Fleur, while Harry was simply distracted. Cedric was the only one who gave him a smile. "Ahem. Well, on with the show, as they say. Your next trial will be the second Trial of Champions, in four weeks. That's February 11th, by the way. This will be one of the greatest tests of your creativity and preparation. Are you ready for this?"

His attempt to drum up some excitement was met with three unamused stares from the older champions and Harry glancing out of the tent. "It will be a wandless duel!"

"What?" all of them shouted together. Wandless magic was almost unheard of, save for very specialized skills like occlumency, the Seer's visions, animagus transformations... none of which were really duelling material.

"Oh, no, you won't have to perform wandless magic," Bagman chuckled. "It's a standard duel until you're knocked out of the arena or subdued, but the only additional rule is no wands. You're allowed to bring in any other kind of tool that you can carry in your hands. The tools, of course, must be magical in nature, non-living, and of course no dark magic or dark artifacts." _Well, darn,_ thought Harry. _I was sure I was capable of lifting Hermione into the arena. I wonder how much Moody weighs?_

Harry left the tent as quickly as he could. Most of the crowd had already left, and Harry still couldn't see Hermione in the stands. Fearing the worst, he began running towards the castle, but as soon as he ran past the bleachers he heard, "Harry!"

Hermione was hiding beneath the seats. Harry ran up to her, asking "Are you alright? Why are you hiding under there?"

"I'm fine," she answered. "But I didn't get to Skeeter. I got distracted by something on the map..."

"Distracted? What could have distracted you from getting back at Skeeter? Was it serious?" Harry asked. His question was answered when a big, shaggy black dog leapt out from the shadows behind Hermione and pinned Harry down, wagging its tail madly.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, Harry, it's Sirius."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- for those of you who are keeping score: Harry 197, Fleur 177, Cedric 170, Krum 141.

- I hate writing poetry. I'm going to avoid writing the sorting hat songs as much as I can.

- The kelp in this story is actually pretty short. Real kelp can be over 50m long. Scuba diving through kelp is kind of scary, with the possibility of getting tangles.

- Breaking off coral is very, very bad! Real coral grows extremely slowly, like 1-2cm/year. Let's just say that this is magical coral that grows really quickly, and that British wizards aren't all that concerned about the environment. (unlike those Algerian wizards!)


	26. Sirius Chats

**Author's Notes:**

- Potter is Rowling's.

* * *

**Chapter 26: Sirius Chats**

While Hermione snuck off to the kitchens to get some food for Sirius, Harry and his "pet dog" went to the Shrieking Shack for a chat. Harry put up a few wards just in case the shack's reputation wasn't enough to keep people away. Sirius watched him until he was finished, and then transformed back to his human form. He looked ragged and weak, but not nearly as bad as when Harry saw him last year. He smiled and gave his godson a hug.

"Harry, it's so good to see you again!" he exclaimed. "How've you been holding up?"

"I'm fine, Sirius," Harry said, shaking his head. "Why are you even here?"

"Harry, Harry, Harry, aren't you glad to see your godfather? We haven't spoken or written to each other for half a year!" He let out a loud, barking laugh as he slapped Harry on the back.

"Yeah, but you're the one that told me not to write to you because you're in hiding," Harry said. "So what's worth coming back to Britain and risking getting thrown into Azkaban again?"

"You, of course! I read an article in the paper about you!"

Harry sighed and slapped his hands over his eyes. "Ugh... please don't tell me you've been reading Rita Skeeter..."

"What? That crazy woman? She's got a regular column in the Prophet but nobody outside of Britain listens to her, pup. Don't worry about it. No, I got my news from a newspaper in France. Said you collapsed at New Year's. I got worried, so I made my way here."

"That's it? That was nothing, Sirius!" Harry debated whether or not to let him know about the vision or just use his public excuse. He decided to let Sirius know the truth. "Well... I'm fine, at least, but... Voldemort's back, Sirius."

"What? How do you know? Did Dumbledore actually decide to tell you?" Sirius asked, wide-eyed.

"No, I'm the one telling Dumbledore, actually. I guess he hasn't passed on that information to you," Harry said, frowning. "I've had visions of Voldemort twice so far. The first time was the night of my birthday. Back then, he was in some mutilated baby's body. On New Year's Eve, he transferred his soul to some new, adult-sized artificial body."

"He's back? Oh, we're not ready for this... not another war..." Sirius muttered.

"Well, Voldemort doesn't have many people at his side. In my last vision I think he only had two Death Eaters helping him." Harry tried to be optimistic.

"Was... was Peter one of them?" Sirius's eyes locked on to Harry's.

"...Yes." Harry knew the pain it would cause Sirius, but felt he deserved to know.

Sirius's voice turned into a low, angry growl. "So he really was Voldemort's man, through and through. All this time I hoped that, maybe, he was scared into giving up the secret. Peter never was the bravest of the Marauders, you know. He was always jumpy and afraid of getting caught. Heh." He shook his head. "But now, old Voldie's already gone, Death Eaters are mostly captured... and Peter goes to revive him anyway."

"We'll catch him, Sirius... but don't go hunting for him again," Harry told him solemnly. The two of them sat in silence for a while, which was broken by the sound of the trap door opening.

"Hello, boys! The house-elves have given us a feast! I hope you're hungry, Sirius!" Hermione happily shouted as she popped her head out of the secret passage. "Um, guys?" She waved the picnic basket in front of them.

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry took the basket and handed a sandwich to Sirius. "Forget about Peter for now. We'll take care of him when we find him. Eat up."

Sirius wolfed down one of the sandwiches right away. "Delicious! I haven't had food like this since... oh, I can't even remember any more. Probably when I was still a student myself. Let me tell you, I couldn't cook for the life of me, and neither could James. He got lucky, marrying your mum."

Harry and Hermione were both worried- after all, it was only a simple sandwich, not the kinds meals that were served at the holiday feasts. "How... have you been eating, Sirius? Where were you staying?"

"Mmm... well, it was just some vineyard in France. Muggle folks, to boot. Not that big a deal because I haven't got a wand anyway," he shrugged as he grabbed another sandwich. "They... uh... don't ask too many questions. All the other workers... well, we know not to talk too much."

"That sounds kind of shady..." Hermione said with a concerned look. "Do they feed you at least?"

Sirius gave a hollow laugh. "I'm a criminal as far as the Aurors are concerned. There aren't many places to choose from. The owners give me a few francs for my work and a roof over my head. It's hard to be picky, you know. I've managed to scrape by with what I've got. I head down to the wizarding areas as a stray dog to nick some papers every once in a while to see what's happening."

"But you've been picking good foods, haven't you? You're keeping yourself healthy, right?" Hermione was about to launch into a lecture on the food pyramid and the proper balance of vitamins and minerals and the best fruits and vegetables for getting them.

"I just pick up what I can. You know muggles have this place called McDonald's? The food's pretty cheap there..."

Hermione sighed. "Please tell me you haven't been eating that stuff all the time..."

"No, no... I usually just buy a few things from the local market. But I swear, muggles must have figured out some kind of compulsion charm, because whenever I eat there I feel a little queasy afterwards but I still want to go back for more..."

Harry laughed. He'd seen plenty of the fast-food restaurants and known about its reputation, but never actually eaten there. The Dursleys never saw fit to buy food for him, no matter how little it cost, and the Grangers didn't eat such unhealthy junk. Sirius had actually experienced a muggle custom that he hadn't. They continued to talk about food and Sirius's living conditions, which in turn led to Harry's home life.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you away from those awful muggles, Harry. You know I'd welcome you into my house if I could."

"Don't worry about it, Sirius. Last summer was fantastic," Harry said, grinning at Hermione.

"What?" Sirius looked back and forth between the two teens.

"Harry stayed over at my house for summer. And the winter hols, too," Hermione explained.

"Really? Did you two have a lot of _fun_ together?" Sirius winked.

"I... I'm only fourteen!" Harry blurted out.

"And you're in fourth year. If things are remotely like the seventies, then it's not a bad time to start... I mean, I was fifth year when I had my first shag, but then again, I'm thirty-five and I still haven't defeated a Dark Lord yet." Sirius gave a throaty laugh when he saw Harry's speechless face. Hermione stepped in to defend her boyfriend.

"I'll have you know that Harry is a perfect gentleman, not some skirt-chaser!"

"Really? I thought you'd be more popular with the ladies. Okay, fine, so you're not bedding them, but at least you've dated a few, right? James was a bit like that. He could charm just about any girl in school, but in the end he saved himself for Lily..." Sirius sat back with a happy smile, reminiscing about his old school days.

"Er... I've only had a few dates with Hermione. And the first few I didn't realize they counted as dates," Harry said sheepishly.

"You're doing fine," Hermione reassured him.

"Harry, here's lesson number one. Whenever a woman tells you you're doing fine, it means you're not, and you need to kick it up a notch." Seeing Hermione's glare, he whispered, "I'll teach you the rest later." He continued, "Well, seeing as neither of you have slept with each other yet, this next bit's going to sound a little pointless, but..."

"Well, we _have_ slept together a few times..." Harry mused dreamily, but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Oh really? What's this about Harry being a _perfect gentleman_ again?"

"Fully clothed!" Hermione clarified. "Like when we fell asleep on the couch on Christmas Eve."

"Or when we were doing our animagi training. Was that the first time it happened?"

"Hey, you're making use of my birthday gift? How's it coming?" Sirius said with a wide smile, leaning forward. If he had been in his dog form, Harry was sure he would see a wagging tail.

"We've discovered our forms, and we're still working on the transfiguration," Harry said. "We started with the limbs like you suggested, but the body is _really_ tricky..."

"Whoa there, pup. You're saying that in the past six months both of you have already discovered your forms? I thought James and I were geniuses for figuring it out by the end of fourth year..." Sirius exclaimed wondrously.

"Really? We think it'll take us until the end of fourth year at least to get it down pat. It's not any faster than you, is it?"

"Yeah, except we started training in second year," Sirius said. "You two sure are really quick on the uptake. So, what are your forms?"

"Well, Harry's an osprey," Hermione said.

"And Hermione's a burrowing owl," Harry finished.

"Wow, both of you nailed it down to the species already? You're even faster than I thought!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that by the end of my fourth year, I only figured out I was a black dog. I had no idea I was an Irish wolfhound until Christmas of fifth year."

"I see what you mean. I knew I was a bird because I was flying, but I wouldn't have had a clue what I was until Hermione told me." He smiled sweetly at her, mouthing "thanks."

"You're telling me that you," he said, pointing at Hermione, "figured it out before you," now pointing to Harry, "even managed a transformation?"

Harry shrugged. "What can I say? Hermione's a genius."

"Hey, we Marauders had our genius too. Moony was able to help us with our animagi training even though he couldn't do it himself, but he wasn't _that_ good."

Hermione was now blushing in modesty. Harry smiled and continued to heap on the praise. "Hermione's way beyond Professor Lupin... she's probably got things inside her head that he'll never comprehend."

Sirius snorted. "She's a teenage girl. There's plenty of things about her that Moony'd never understand."

"Stop it, you two! It wasn't like I was the only one... Harry helped me figure out my form, too. I thought I was a gopher or something until he described my form to me."

"Wait, what? You figured out each other's forms? Are you telling me Harry knew more about owls than you did, Hermione?"

"No, no... we just saw each other in our dreams. I described what she looked like, and she figured out the actual species."

"How can you two see each other inside each other's dreams?" Sirius was looking both surprised and confused.

"I don't know. We did our usual meditations, but we fell asleep together. Then it just happened," Harry shrugged.

"Maybe it had to do with the fact that we were also practicing occlumency and legilimency a lot around the same time," Hermione suggested. "I mean, we have been pretty intimate with each other's thoughts..."

"Getting _intimate_, eh?" Sirius nudged them.

"Sirius, will you stop with the sexual innuendo?" Hermione tried to scold him, but the man just laughed it off.

"Fine, fine, but seeing each other's animagus forms never happened to us. You two might be on to something. Don't think I've ever heard of it happening. But then again, there aren't many animagus couples, and most of them got married after becoming animagi independently," he said.

Since none of them could offer any more insight into Harry and Hermione's animagi-form search method, they spent the remaining time they had chatting about Harry's current progress in the Triwizard Tournament before turning to more practical topics like Sirius's sleeping arrangements. They decided that the Shrieking Shack would probably be the safest place for the moment. Hermione reinforced Harry's wards, which cleverly used the shack's reputation to enhance a person's fear and dread as they approached. They would sneak in more food whenever they could, hopefully every evening after class.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Harry, but that would be against the rules, would it not? It is a rather unfortunate consequence of being named an independent competitor," Dumbledore gently refused Harry's request.

"I guess so... but does that mean you're going to offer the Sword of Gryffindor to Cedric to use in the next trial?" Harry asked.

"If he doesn't make the request himself, I will not suggest it to him. After all, the champion should be the one coming up with the idea in the first place," the headmaster replied merrily.

Without access to the sword, Harry changed the subject. "You know Sirius is back, right? He's hiding out in the Shrieking Shack right now..."

"Yes, I was informed that he had left his hiding place in France and returned. Don't worry, Harry, as the aurors still believe he is making his way through India. Nobody will be searching for him here, and so long as no owls are seen flying to and from the Shrieking Shack, nobody will find him there."

"Isn't there somewhere safer than Hogsmeade? Like... maybe... the castle? There's lots of unused rooms I'm sure he could stay in..."

"There are still far too many ways for him to accidentally run into a student. I could hardly imagine what would happen if he were to cross paths with the Messrs. Fred and George Weasley. A few locked doors wouldn't keep the students out or Sirius in."

_Well, maybe if we throw in a giant chess set it would help_, Harry thought snidely, but didn't speak aloud. Instead, he thanked his headmaster and left his office. Hermione was waiting outside.

"So how did it go?" She didn't expect much, seeing Harry's expression.

"Denied. On all counts. At least we can still see Sirius as long as we're sneaky about it," Harry said.

"What better way to practice our disillusionment and espionage skills?" Hermione tried cheering up Harry with some optimism.

"Yeah, and I guess I shouldn't bother with the sword. Dumbledore won't be handing it over. I wonder if I could summon it, though..."

"I don't think Fawkes will steal the Sorting Hat for you if you're not actually in danger, Harry."

"Yeah, you're right. It's not like it was a good sword for me, anyway. I think Godric must have been at least six feet tall to be able to swing that sword around. I don't know the first thing about sword-fighting."

"Fencing, Harry. And you defeated a Basilisk with it! You stabbed it straight through its brain! How can you say you don't know how to handle a sword?"

"I really don't! I just got lucky, like I usually do. It tried to swallow me, I swung like crazy and the sword just ended up inside its brain. Come on down to the chamber, I'll show you exactly how it happened and how ridiculous it actually was."

"Oh, forget it, Harry. Let's just go back to the common room and brainstorm some ideas." The two of them made their way back and sat on the couch. Most of the other students were out in Hogsmeade enjoying the weekend, so they could toss ideas back and forth on the comfy couch instead of the rigid library seats.

They were discussing the idea of using enchanted clothing when Colin Creevy walked in. Seeing the two of them, he happily opened up an envelope he was holding. "I have your pictures from the ball, Harry. Sorry it took so long to get them developed, I ran out of film and I had to wait for my allowance before I could buy more..."

"It's alright. Let's see them." Colin handed the pictures over. They spent the next little while looking over the photos, bringing back beautiful memories of the night before it was ruined by Voldemort. Colin had fully embraced the wizarding method of photography and all the pictures were animated, but only for a few seconds' worth of movement. They kept all the pictures, but decided to make extra copies of five of them.

"How much will this all cost? We want three copies of each of these," Hermione said, indicating the ones they wanted more of.

"Um... all of them together... that would be about six sickles, I guess," Colin answered after a bit of mental calculation.

Harry pulled a galleon out of his mokeskin pouch. "Keep the change. You're actually a pretty good photographer, Colin."

"Wow, thanks Harry!" Colin's eyes lit up as he scurried away to make more photos.

"So, Harry, you've learned to start spending your money?" Harry turned around to see the twins behind him.

"What do you mean?" Harry didn't think it was all too unusual to pay Colin for the photos.

"Ahem. From today's newspaper... '_Potter's Golden Victory: Did He Buy His Way to Victory?' _by Rita Skeeter."

"Stop... I've had enough of that woman," Harry growled. Hermione looked ashamed, but said nothing.

"Just thought you'd like to know. Who would be crazy enough to buy all the gillyweed in Britain just to stop Cedric from getting some?"

"Well, not me. The apothecaries don't store much of it because it doesn't keep very well and it's not a popular potion ingredient anyway. I couldn't even find any in Britain myself when I shopped around, I had to order it from Africa. Please tell me you two aren't going to believe Skeeter over me..."

"Harry, mate, we're not like Ron. We're here on business."

"What kind of business?" The twins had never approached him before, other than to try to sell him their new products.

"Advising."

"Consulting."

"Research."

"Alright, what are you two actually up to?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms.

"We think we can help Harry out, for a small favour in exchange."

"What exactly are you offering? And why do you need the extra money? I thought your Weasley Wheeze business was doing pretty well." Harry was starting to think that this in itself was a prank.

"We're offering our expertise and our products, of course! We'd just like you to... mention our names while you're on stage. Give us a little advertising."

"I don't think Harry's going to be able to prank Krum off the duelling platform," Hermione said dryly.

"Hermione, despite our being the geniuses that we are..."

"...handsome geniuses."

"Thank you, dear brother. The handsome geniuses before you don't always get our prank products right on our first try."

"Or our second."

"We have a rather large stockpile of unused prank products that are... unsuitable for public sale."

"Wait... you're telling me you're going to sell me a bunch of... broken prank products?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Oh, no, dear Harry. Most of these products we have are unsaleable because they're too potent."

"Although you might be able to make use of a few of our regular products as well."

"Fine, I'll have a look. This had better be good, guys."

* * *

They stepped into one of the many unused classrooms in Hogwarts, but this one had several workbenches, a brewing area, and a small cot. Half the room didn't have any furnishings at all, but appeared to be a test area. It was covered in scorch marks; some of the walls were stained in several places and it looked like some parts of the floor had melted and re-solidified.

"Welcome to the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Workshop!" Fred announced proudly. He went to the back and opened up a storage cabinet.

"These are some of the products that are safe enough that they won't explode on the shelf by themselves, but if you used them improperly, you'd be in St. Mungo's for a week."

"And we do want repeat customers, so we couldn't have anyone killing themselves with our products."

"Not the best for business, mind you."

"Yeah, customers can't tell their friends how fantastic your products are if they're six feet under."

"So take a look, Harry. Just be careful."

Harry didn't move and just stared at the junk in the cabinet. He didn't want to lose his hand by accident or something.

"It's perfectly safe, Harry. Fine, here's one you've used before. It was our... second attempt at the Bursting Beastie."

Harry took the small package from them. It did look about the same as the one he'd used the night the twins made their attempt on the cup. He held it up as usual. Fred (or was it George?) leapt out of the way.

"Crikey, Harry, warn me before you do that, would you?" Harry was baffled by his reaction.

"Fine... I'm pulling the string now, alright?" Harry tugged on the string at the end of the device. Instead of a small little dragon that shot out, this time it was a monstrous, tiger-shaped ball of sparks. The tiger disappeared in less than a second, but it continued as a massive bundle of sparks that hit the opposite end of the room with a loud bang, adding a new singe mark.

"You like it?" The twins asked.

"Yeah... as long as I don't blow my own legs off with these in my pockets."

"Well, we think we can make them that powerful, and still keep the beastie shape now that we've had more experience. It should be able to chase down whoever you point it at," George said, grinning.

"Then again, if you just need a good old explosion, look no further than our Wildfire Whiz-bangs..."

Harry had just found himself something to work on in his spare time. The twins had a rudimentary knowledge of permanent charms and used them to enchant some of their devices. Harry quickly learned how to do it as well, and even threw in a few of the basic runes he'd learned to increase the effects or make them last longer. He made good use of the twins' shield hat, which had a semi-permanent (but weak) _protego_ enchanted to it, which would last until the first spell cast upon it. The twins had shelved the idea because a one-use shield hat wasn't going to sell very well. Harry threw in a charging rune and instantly made the shield capable of recharging from the wearer's magic. They quickly moved on to charming nearly every piece of clothing they could, figuring that would make up the bulk of Harry's defensive capabilities.

One area that Harry simply couldn't match the twins on, however, was potions. Seeing them make potions was like... well, magic. They had begun their business on a shoestring budget, and had tested out hundreds of cheap alternatives that approximated the effects they wanted. The result was a lot of experience via trial and error. They could take almost any potion and almost instantly figure out how to make it easier to brew, cheaper to buy, or turn it into a candy. The latter skill boggled Harry's mind. For all of Snape's ranting about how precise and delicate potions work was, the twins seemed to be able to mix anything they wanted with sugar and caramel and not cause an explosion. Even Hermione was impressed, because she learned a lot from the twins' potions notebook. She suspected that the two of them could easily be potions masters if they desired.

Harry found an immediate use for their talent. Knowing that Snape would be asking for a minor fortitude potion (which made people a little more resistant to minor injuries) next class, he asked the twins if they had any variations of the potion. It turned out that they did. Since the fortitude potion was only good enough to last a few minutes and only protected against minor injuries from accidents like stubbing your toe, burning your tongue on a hot drink, or scraping your knees, few people ever took the effort to brew one of these potions other than as test material in Potions class. The twins had reformulated the potion into a gobstopper that lasted several hours, turning it into a useful candy that meant a full day without worrying about bumps and scrapes. Harry practiced the formula so he was ready for his next Potions class.

* * *

"And what was Snivelley's reaction?" Sirius almost choked on his salad from laughing too much.

"Well, he tried to ignore me. I mean, he really tried. He didn't talk to me at all, no matter how much that vein on the left side of his forehead was throbbing... you know what I'm talking about, right?" Harry smirked.

"Well? Go on! That can't be the end of it!"

"That's when I pulled out a bag of sugar and melted it into my cauldron."

"What? And it didn't blow up?"

"No, but Snape did. He said I was a danger to everyone in class and tried to vanish my potion."

"Does he usually do that to get rid of a potion? Slughorn used to drain it into an anti-reaction basin."

"Yeah, but normally only at the end of class when the flame's been put out and the potion's settled. He was a little too angry this time." Harry laughed again. "So, the spell ended up destabilizing the whole thing instead of vanishing it."

"I thought you said your potion didn't blow up!"

"It didn't! It belched out a big cloud of smoke. I threw up a bubble-head charm right away, but Snape caught it right in the face. I think it blinded him. That made him stumble back into Dean's bench, making his robes catch fire."

"You couldn't possibly have planned that."

"No, I was actually planning on him getting mad enough to haul me to Dumbledore, and when that happened I would demand to see Madam Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff as well, and claim that a professor of Hogwarts was attempting to subvert the Triwizard rules. I've been trying to push him over the edge for the past two weeks now. I just didn't expect it to happen this way."

Sirius gave Harry a kindly smile and pretended to wipe away a tear. "I'm so proud of you, Harry. The first step to being a Marauder is giving a greasy git what he deserves."

"Oh, stop it, Sirius." Harry laughed.

"And you've already started step two, getting an animagus form. Are you going to use it in the tournament?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I was thinking it would be more useful to keep it a secret, like you. Just in case I ever find myself in Azkaban or something."

"How about your invisibility cloak? James was almost always the prank executor because he could sneak anywhere with that thing."

"I'm not going to accidentally rip up my dad's cloak over a silly tournament!"

"Well, what ARE you going to do, then? No sword, no cloak, no animagus... what else have you got?"

"I've been putting your successors to work, Sirius." Harry grinned.

"Didn't I just tell you you're the next Marauder? You don't seem to be working very hard right now."

"I'm talking about the official Hogwarts pranksters. The twins. They can make just about anything explode. Sort of like Neville, but with a lot more control over when and how."

"So you're going to use their little bombs and stuff to win? You'll need a better plan than that to win, Harry."

"Oh, I've got a lot more up my sleeve. Well... since you won't be able to watch my duel, I'll tell you what I've got planned..." Harry went over all the preparations with the twins. Sirius agreed that it seemed like a fairly well-rounded plan, more offensive than defensive, but he was more worried about Harry's opponents. Harry really had no idea what Krum, Fleur, and Cedric were planning. He'd expected the same things he thought of- a magical weapon like the Sword of Gryffindor, or some other magical devices. Not knowing exactly what to defend against, he just went for the basic combination of shield-charmed clothing and dodging for his defense. He hoped it would be enough.

* * *

"There's no such thing as having 'enough' ammunition, Harry," Hermione told him. She and the twins were spending the last two days frantically brewing, crafting, mixing, and packing up as many rounds of Harry's tools as possible. Harry was busy modifying several belts into holsters, each carrying several dozen packets, tubes, vials, and candies all within easy reach for him.

"She's right, Harry. Why launch one Whiz-bang at your opponent when you can toss five of them at once?" Fred gave a wicked smile.

"That sounds a little... excessive," Harry said. "I don't exactly what to kill them, you know."

"That's not what I meant!" huffed Hermione. "I don't want you to stand up there on stage with empty pockets and nothing left to use. Don't go _wasting_ them by tossing them five at a time," Hermione said, glaring at Fred.

"And are you sure the engorgement vials are allowed? I think we're skirting the rules pretty close with the candies already, but the engorgement potion is a potion, no two ways about it."

"I asked Mr. Bagman already, Harry. As long as you're not drinking the potion yourself, you'll be fine."

The twins turned around. "So that means you can use our immolation potion, yeah?"

"What is it with you two and fire?" Hermione asked, shaking her head.

"Well, we don't get much of a chance to set fires at school, you know. It would cause too much actual destruction. Might get us expelled," George explained.

"We'll take what we can get."

Harry began making himself yet another belt to hold the potions. In the end, he'd be carrying nearly fifty candies, thirty potions, and almost a hundred assorted knickknacks... for each duel. Every belt had a quick-release latch, just in case something went wrong and he needed to forfeit the match very, very quickly. Harry hoped he wouldn't have to use it.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Yeah, the Sword of Gryffindor was probably the first thought on most people's minds, but I didn't fancy turning Harry into a knight in the space of a month.

- I do like to imagine making use of prank products in combat, though. Even though the Harry-hires-twins-to-invent-weapons plotline is pretty common in fanfics, it usually ends up with some fairly fantastic weapon. I want to see what's possible with the relatively simple inventions they had in canon.

- harry won't be relying on the twins for the wandless duel every time he goes through the tournament... just a heads up. =)


	27. Who Likes Explosions?

**Author's Notes:**

- Harry is Joanne's

- A lot of reviewers have mentioned the movie "Groundhog Day." I've actually never seen it, but I'll keep an eye out and maybe rent it. Sounds funny.

- one reviewer did mention that my last chapter's authors notes was spoiler-ish, but did you really expect me to not use the title's namesake again when there's so much potential for fun? I'm not telling you when's the next time they activate it, though.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Who Likes Explosions?**

Sirius had taken a serious risk in his attempts to spy on the competition for Harry. Hermione insisted fervently that he stay in the Shrieking Shack for his own safety, he snuck out a few times in his animagus form to roam the Hogwarts grounds and Forbidden Forest. Harry understood how much joy sneaking around Hogwarts must have brought his godfather, whose life had been completely torn to shreds only a short time after graduation, so he wasn't as adamant as Hermione. He just warned Sirius to be careful when he did sneak out. After all, the man had managed to get inside the school last year, with dementors actively searching for him, so he knew how to sneak around properly.

The end result was finding out what Cedric and Fleur were up to. The Durmstrang ship was a veritable floating fortress, so he had no idea how Krum was preparing for the next task. Sirius had seen Cedric perform wandless magic at night near the edge of the forest, but he was wearing some other kind of focus device on his hand. On top of that, the spells he cast were done wordlessly, more powerful than expected, and could be fired off rapidly. He couldn't figure out any more details, as there were several other Hufflepuffs standing guard and watching for spies. Harry wondered if Cedric knew a wand-crafter of some sort who had created him some kind of super-wand. He figured that he'd need a second layer of shield-charmed clothing if he were to survive Cedric's spells.

Fleur, interestingly enough, had gone with Harry's first idea- a magical sword. Of course, she used a lightweight sabre instead of a broadsword, combined with a small magical shield. On top of that, she had training with these weapons and moved gracefully with them. Against her, Harry would need to focus on being even quicker and lighter. Grateful for the information, Harry gave Sirius a big hug the night before the trial.

* * *

On the day of the trial, Hermione, Neville, and the twins all helped him carry his equipment down to the Quidditch-turned-duelling stadium. Instead of the usual champion's tent, there were four tents, so each champion wouldn't be able to see the others until just before the duel started. Bagman's eyes boggled at the trunks that came along with Harry.

"Surely you're not going to carry all that up on stage with you, Mr. Potter?"

"Not all at once, but I'll probably make use of most of them at the end of three duels."

"Very well, Mr. Potter. Please wait inside. Today's procedures are rather special, as you can imagine. At the beginning of each duel, you must hand your wand in to the referee at the beginning of the duel. You'll get it back at the end. During the two-hour break in between each duel, you have to stay inside this tent. You will not be allowed to watch the other duellers during your break. No visitors will be allowed except for tournament officials and mediwitches. An arbitrator will be coming by shortly to inspect your choice of tools before the duels begin. Is that clear?" Harry nodded with some reluctance, but understood the need for all the secrecy. At least he had a rough idea of what Cedric and Fleur were using already. Hermione gave him a quick good luck kiss before leaving, while Neville, Fred, and George gave him hearty pats on the back. After his friends left, Harry ended up waiting for an hour before the arbitrator came by. He spent the time loading up his many belts and checking over the shield charms on his hat and robes. He was putting on his "explosives" belt when the man walked in.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. My name is Julian Scalette. Would you care to explain to me what tools you've brought today?"

"Well, on this belt I have the explosives. Most of them shoot off sparks or fireworks. That trunk over there has more," he explained, pointing at the trunk beside him. "This next belt contains the throwing-vials..." The explanation and inspection for all the things Harry had took half an hour, but it went by without a fuss. He had looked questioningly at the "candies" that Harry intended to use, but as the rules specifically forbade "potions," he managed to get away with it the same way he got away with using gillyweed for the last task. It wasn't liquid, and he didn't actually have to swallow anything (the gillyweed juices soaked straight through his skin, and his candies he picked were meant to be spat out), so the arbitrator grudgingly allowed them. It was a rule they'd surely change in future tournaments.

Another official came by later, informing him he would be starting his duel in ten minutes and his first opponent was Cedric. Remembering what Sirius had seen, he quickly pulled out his spare set of charmed robes. Undoing the many, many belts he had, putting on the second layer of robes, and then putting them back on took nearly all of the ten minutes. He was still scrambling with the last buckle when the official stepped into the tent to escort him to the duelling platform.

As he walked up to the platform, he took a good look at what Cedric was wearing. It was a gauntlet on his right hand- a very pretty gauntlet that was studded with jewels. In fact, it reminded him of Gryffindor's sword. It must have been goblin-made. As they stepped up on stage, the referee asked for their wands. After handing their wands over, Harry and Cedric bowed and the duel began.

Keeping what Sirius had found out in mind, Harry knew that if he was defensive with Cedric, he'd probably get pinned down quickly. The shield charms on his robes wouldn't last very long. He immediately pulled out two of the modified Bursting Beasties and yanked the cords. A sparkling wyvern and cougar began charging towards Cedric. Without bothering to defend himself, the older boy dodged and tossed a light stunner at Harry. Harry easily sidestepped the single spell as he pulled another set of the Beasties from his belt. _Was Sirius seeing the right thing? That was a pretty weak stunner. If Cedric really can cast faster than he could with a wand, why doesn't he? _Harry wondered. He looked into Cedric's eyes, trying to read what he was thinking. _Thirty-six_ was the only thing Harry could pull from Cedric's thoughts.

As the fireworks charged towards him, Cedric barely noticed in time that the sparkling animals could change their direction slightly to follow him and singed his left hand slightly. Seeing the effectiveness of this weapon, Harry released the two in his hand and immediately pulled out two more. He'd only have another four remaining, but if they could end the duel quickly, all the better for him.

To his surprise, Cedric reacted completely differently seeing four of the beasts charging at him. He grinned and threw an extremely powerful wind charm, immediately extinguishing all four of the animals and throwing Harry off balance as well. He followed up immediately with a much more powerful stunner less than a second later. It struck Harry right in the chest, and he was knocked backwards. Thankfully, he didn't fall off the stage, but he did notice the shield charms on both layers of his robes had been cracked. _Alright, I guess Sirius was right. One stunner that broke through two layers of shields,_ he realized. Reading Cedric again, he was surprised again to sense the number _twenty-nine, _but managed to catch an image of shattering rock. At that instant, Cedric followed up with a massive reductor spell. Without thinking, Harry grabbed the first thing his hand could reach and tossed it in the path of the spell. It was a packet of Instant Darkness Powder, which exploded mid-air, blocking the champions' views of each other. Cedric immediately stopped his attack.

_Darn_, thought Harry. _I should have saved that for later. He's casting spells without an incantation?_ It was one of the experimental items that the twins had yet to perfect, and he only allotted one dose per duel. He had intended to use the powder when Cedric was pinned down at one of the narrow ends of the duelling oval, not have it explode right in the middle and cut off his legilimency. Still, it bought him some time and he wasn't going to let it go to waste. He pulled a bag from his waist belt and started tossing them in the general direction of Cedric. He clapped his hands, setting off the Clap Traps, which had various effects. Some were sticky, some released a mild stinging hex, while others released itching powder or stink powder. Harry was sure Cedric would be sufficiently distracted by the little devices until the darkness powder dissipated. To his surprise, Cedric came charging through the darkness powder. Harry was glad to see a few of the sticky Clap Traps were attached to him, impeding his movement, and he looked extremely uncomfortable, trying to resist scratching himself.

Harry didn't have much time to celebrate, though, as Cedric launched five stunners in a row so quickly it looked like a long stream of spells instead of five individual ones. Harry managed to dodge three of them and let his hat absorb the last two, destroying its shields. Harry knew he was now defenceless, and began throwing everything he had at Cedric. First, he pulled his last few Bursting Beasties while running through the cloud of darkness powder. Cedric reacted the same as last time, using a strong wind spell to blow away the beasties and at the same time removing the darkness, itching, and stink powders from the arena. Harry wasn't done. He started lobbing his immolation vials, dividing his side of the field and Cedric's with a wall of flame. He now had much more room to move than Cedric did. Oddly enough, Cedric didn't halt the flames with a simple flame-freezing charm as Harry expected, but just watched Harry's next move. Harry pulled out the extra-potent Whiz-bangs, which tossed out simple fireballs and sparks straight at Cedric.

Just as the fireball was about to hit Cedric, he burst into action again. This time he cast a very powerful jet of water that cut straight through the fireball and the flames burning on the ground, running towards Harry. In response, Harry tossed an Avalanche-in-a-Tube at Cedric, which contained some sand and engorgement solution. When they mixed mid-air, the sand grew to the size of pebbles and burst through the vial, showering Cedric with stone. He used this time to read Cedric again, and he was now thinking _Six _along with an image of the boulders flying away, and at that moment Cedric cast a powerful banisher that sent the rocks back towards Harry. Ducking and shielding himself with one arm, he lobbed another two of the bottles along with his remaining immolation vials and a Portable Swamp at Cedric, who banished the vials but missed the swamp. Stumbling waist-deep in muddy water, he met Harry's eyes for a second. Harry saw _Four_ and an image of himself flying away. Harry immediately smashed a vial of sticking solution and adhered himself to the floor just as Cedric cast an extremely powerful banishing charm. He felt the banisher grow stronger, and then suddenly cut off. He was expecting Cedric to finish him with the next spell since he could no longer move, but nothing came. Harry looked at Cedric, who stared straight back at him. Cedric looked like he was about to admit defeat, but he shouted, "You have anything left, Harry?"

Harry searched his belts and pockets with his free hand. He was almost completely empty. There was only one thing he could hit Cedric with at this range, a Watermelon Seed-shot. It really wasn't a useful tool for a duel, little more than a distraction. Harry put it in his mouth and immediately began spitting watermelon seeds at high speed at Cedric, who was more annoyed than anything. "Is that all you've got?" he laughed.

"Why don't you come a little closer?" Harry shouted back at him. He had a few doses of Flaming Hot Pepper-mints. He popped one in his mouth and spewed a thick stream of fire towards Cedric. Unfortunately, it flames barely made it halfway. "Did that get you?"

"No," came the reply.

The referee immediately ended the duel, and to his chagrin, had to unbind Harry from his own sticking solution. He declared the duel a draw and the two of them received their wands again. Cedric walked off stage, still scratching himself from the itching powder as he repeatedly cast the scouring charm to rid himself of the Clap Traps. "So, you got some help from the Weasley Twins, eh?" he asked Harry.

"Yeah, I did. Why did you stop? I was almost out of things to throw at you," Harry asked in reply.

"I was completely out of spells to throw at you," Cedric shrugged in reply. "I should have had a back-up solution. I guess I'm stuck with what I have for now, though." It was only then that Harry noticed the jewels on Cedric's gauntlet weren't nearly as shiny as when the duel started. _So that's why Cedric was counting down the entire duel. _He wanted to find out more about that gauntlet, but before he could ask, the two of them were ushered into their separate tents.

* * *

Sitting in a tent all alone was extremely boring. The first few minutes were full of excitement, with the referee first asking Harry how to dispel the swamp. He didn't know, so he directed the man to the Weasley twins. Afterwards, the mediwitches chatted with him, congratulating him on his win, and so did the girl that brought him his lunch. After that, however, he was alone for an entire hour. He wanted Hermione to help analyze his performance and tell him what he was doing wrong. Or right. Or how to prepare for the next opponent. Then again, her advice last time only helped a little bit last time. Maybe he should just go with gut instinct this time. Still, it would have been nice for her to be there for moral support. He slowly reloaded all his belts and changed into another set of shielded robes.

Finally, another official came in and announced that he would be up against Fleur on the second duel. That meant Cedric would be fighting against Krum before him. Harry wondered how Cedric would do in that situation- last time, he had used his spells fairly well but Krum still managed to beat him with better strength and endurance. This time, with the glove, he could launch far more powerful spells and faster as well. It really depended on what Krum had chosen as his weapons. Only a few minutes later, he was told the first duel was already over. Cedric must have launched off all his spells as quickly as he could. Whether that was enough to beat Krum, Harry wouldn't know until the end of the day.

Up against Fleur, Harry wore only one layer of shield-robes and hat and carried less on his belts as well. He didn't want to get weighed down, and Sirius had said she was very quick and nimble with her weapons. As they stepped out, Harry looked at what Fleur was carrying. It was a sword and shield, alright- but they were both made of wood. He could understand a wooden shield, but was a wooden sword supposed to be dangerous? He guessed that his immolation vials and whiz-bangs would be very useful this round. Fleur was eyeing him with equal curiosity, trying to figure out what all the devices Harry had strapped all over his body would do. Once again, they handed their wands in at the beginning of the duel and bowed.

Harry immediately opened up with two Bursting Beasties again, but Fleur nimbly dodged both of them and purposefully dragged her wooden sword through the shower of sparks and absorbed them. The sword ignited and began burning with a light blue flame. "Why, zank you, 'Arry!" she smiled sweetly as she charged forward. Harry pulled out a Whiz-bang and shot it directly at her as she approached. Fleur held her shield at an angle, which created a gust of wind and deflected the fireball above her. Holding her sword up, part of the flames got absorbed by the sword, whose flames began to burn even more brightly.

_Okay, no more fire_, thought Harry as he kept his eyes trained on Fleur. Thanks to his legilimency, he could predict her physical moves pretty easily, but the sword was a surprise. Sometimes the flames extended, sometimes it threw a fireball, and sometimes it shot a flaming spear towards Harry. It all seemed to be controlled by small movements from her wrist instead of any kind of incantation or button on the sword itself. Fleur was moving like a dancer, flicking the lightweight sword around more like a baton. His robes' shields could handle the glancing blows if Harry didn't manage to dodge the flames completely, but he knew they would shatter to a direct hit. He needed to slow down Fleur's assault. _Alright then, what else have I got?_

Harry opened up a bag of Clap Traps and spread them out in front of him while he backed away from Fleur. She skidded to a halt, but ended up stopping right in the middle of the traps. Harry clapped and all of them burst at once. The sticky ones bounced up and clung to her, but the powder-spewing ones were less effective as Fleur's shield blew their contents away. She advanced on Harry again, but her movements were obviously hampered by the sticky traps. Harry could now dodge her attacks much more easily and decided to keep impeding her. Keeping his eye on her as he dodged her attacks, he palmed a sticking solution and concentrated on reading her movements. When she finally took a big step forward, he dropped the vial just beneath her feet and she ended up stepping on it, tripping as her foot was glued to the ground.

_Got her!_ he gleefully thought, but she quickly slipped out of her boots and continued fighting barefoot, leaving the shoe stuck on the arena floor. She muttered something in French that Harry was sure wasn't very polite, and once again went on the offensive. He searched his belt for another non-flammable device. Pulling out another bag of powder, he smirked. _Fleur will like this one... but I have to take care of that shield first._ Tossing another Avalanche-in-a-Tube, he waited for the pebbles to rain down on Fleur, forcing her to protect her head with her shield, and he tossed another bag of powder. This one contained deliberately aged Instant Romance Powder. It burst as it hit the ground, foaming up into a slippery solution that also sparked and stung Fleur's bare feet. Just as she stumbled, Harry released the Portable Swamp in front over her, causing her to splash into the muddy water. The flames on her sword were instantly extinguished.

Sopping wet, covered in mud and sputtering loudly, Fleur's goddess-like image of beauty was effectively ruined. Harry felt the burst of an aura from Fleur again- but this time, it wasn't the allure. She transformed partially into her avian form, re-igniting her sword as she pulled herself from the swamp. Turning back to her human form, Harry could tell she was very annoyed. She obviously didn't let this side of herself show in public very often. Harry really didn't have much left in his arsenal that wasn't based on flames and sparks- maybe the exploding potions would work? He threw one of them directly at Fleur, whose shield pushed it away with a gust of wind. Unfortunately for her, it still exploded fairly close to her, knocking her back into the swamp. Silently mouthing a string of profanities in French, she once again lit up her sword with her avian form, but paused as Harry readied another exploding potion.

"'ow many of zose potions do you 'ave left, 'arry?" she inquired.

The one in his hand was the only one left, but the bottle _did _look similar to the immolation vials on his belt. He decided to bluff, and replied, "Many more. Do you want to keep doing this?"

"Non." She tossed aside her sword, and Harry thought she was about to forfeit, but she transformed fully into her avian form, and started tossing fireballs at him while backing away to the other side of the swamp. Her feathers were soaked so she couldn't fly, but she still looked scary. Harry could tell she was funnelling all her rage into the flames she was casting. Harry danced around his side of the arena, nearly tiring himself out trying to keep himself from being roasted. His last exploding potion was consumed by the flames, and he had very little left that wasn't fire-based.

_Wait a sec, she's not holding her sword any more!_ Harry realized. He pulled out another two Beasties and shot them at Fleur, which caused her to come to her senses and pause the attack. Instantly, she figured out why Harry hadn't used about half of his devices, and dove for her sword as she went back to her human form. Harry tossed the only thing that he had left which wouldn't ignite the sword at her- his last sticking solution. The liquid splashed all over the sword and Fleur's hand just as she reached it, causing her hand, and the sword, to stick to the ground. Stuck in an awkward position and unable to move, Harry pulled out a whiz-bang and aimed it right at Fleur.

"Do you yield, Fleur?" He asked tentatively.

"I yield," she grumbled as she held up her free hand. The referee ended the duel, declaring Harry the winner.

"'ow is it you can always get me so flustered?" Fleur muttered to Harry irritably as they made their way off the platform.

"I... uh... sorry about the swamp thing," Harry said, rubbing his neck as he blushed slightly. _Flustered? Great choice of words there, Fleur._

"It was not ze swamp zat made me lose my temper. It was... hm... do you know 'ow much I enjoy duelling gracefully?" Harry nodded, recalling how Fleur had moved in the first duel as well as this one, until she fell into the swamp, of course. "You seem to tumble ever which way like ze clumsy boy I saw at ze ball, and yet you still end up where you need to be. Tell me, 'arry, is it all an act?"

"Act?" Harry cocked his head to the side.

"You are no ordinary fourth-year, are you, 'arry? You are 'iding many secrets, are you not?" She eyed him curiously.

"Uh... I don't know what you're talking about, Fleur. I just get lucky sometimes. Bye." Harry quickly rushed ahead to his own tent. He could feel Fleur's eyes on his back the entire way.

* * *

_One tie, one win_, Harry thought. _I'm doing better than last time already_. Still, he was up against Krum again as his final duel, and he still didn't know what the Bulgarian's weapon or strategy was. _What was it the twins said? When in doubt, add more explosions?_ He began stuffing his belts with as many of the remaining potions as he could.

He spent his time waiting for the next duel trying to guess what Krum would be using. His strength in duelling came from his own extreme magical power and endurance. He probably wouldn't be using stored magic like Cedric, because that would be a weakness for him. Maybe it was another magical weapon, like Fleur. Krum _was_ physically fit. All the Durmstrang students were. Harry wasn't sure if muggle-style weapons were part of the curriculum, but he did know that duelling was a standard class there. Krum's only other strength was Quidditch... Harry smacked himself in the head. _Why didn't I use a broom? I could have just flown above them and dropped potions like bombs_, he realized. _Then again, why didn't anyone else think of brooms?_

Just in case Krum _did_ think of using his broom, Harry decided to swap one of his potions belts for another belt with more Bursting Beasties and Wildfire Whiz-bangs. They could fly straight up and travel quite a distance. Hoping he had enough firepower on hand to take down an internationally acclaimed seeker, he waited for his last duel to start. He was afraid of losing quickly to Krum the same way he had in the first Trial of Champions and kept playing the scenario in his head. By the time the official stepped into the tent to get him, his heart was pounding and he was so tense he nearly fired one of his Whiz-bangs. _Calm down,_ he told himself. He quickly reminded himself of occlumency exercises to quickly bring his emotions back in line.

He heard Krum's heavy footsteps the moment he left his tent's silencing wards. Turning his head, Krum was now looking twice as big as usual. He was wearing full wizarding battle-armour instead of robes. It wasn't just a light dragonhide like his herbology gloves, it was made of heavy dragon-scale. The armour itself must have weighed at least thirty kilograms, but Krum was walking at a fairly good pace towards the platform. Harry could outmanoeuvre and maybe flank him, but he got the feeling Krum didn't need to bother dodging with all the armour on. Harry then noticed that Krum was carrying a long, wooden stick. At first he thought that Krum really was going to fly on a broom, but then he realized it was much longer and it didn't have any bristles. It was a staff.

If Hermione had been here, she would have explained at length the history of staves, the transition to wands, and their inherent weaknesses and differences in the magic. All Harry knew was that all wizards stopped using staves after they invented wands, and that was thousands of years ago. Had Krum really learned how to use one? He was about to find out very soon.

After handing in their wands once again, Harry watched Krum make his way in his heavy armour to his starting position. He decided that the best way for him to win was to take advantage of Krum's immobility. As soon as the duel began, Harry pulled out his last Portable Swamp and tossed it at Krum immediately. The Bulgarian whirled the staff over his head and batted the little package away, but that caused it to deploy mid-air. Instead of creating an actual swamp, it simply exploded in a huge shower of mud and slime, splashing all over Krum's half of the arena. Krum, realizing there was nothing corrosive or poisonous in the mixture, simply ignored the mess and began an incantation.

Harry didn't want to let him finish it, so he launched a Whiz-bang straight at Krum, who didn't even flinch. Instead, he raised an armoured hand to shield his face and continued chanting, letting the flames strike him directly. _I wish I could get myself some high-quality armour like that,_ thought Harry. Krum finished his incantation and a huge wave of magic burst from his staff, moving out in every direction. It cleared the mud behind Krum and pushed Harry back like a strong banishing charm. His shield-charmed robes absorbed most of the magic, stopping Harry from getting knocked off the arena completely. Krum was rather surprised that Harry's ordinary-looking robes actually served as armour, but smirked and began a second incantation.

Since one Whiz-bang wasn't enough, Harry decided to try four at once. Holding two in each hand and pulling the strings with his teeth, he launched all four at Krum. The four sparkling fireballs merged into one as they approached Krum, forcing an interruption to the incantation. Krum released all the energy he had been channelling into the staff with a quick tap, which helped dispel some of the flames, while he huddled low and again let his armour take the brunt of the attack. He came out of it red-faced and breathing hard, but otherwise unscathed. It seemed like Harry was nearing the limit of Krum's armour.

Krum quickly switched tactics as he watched Harry pull another set of contraptions from his belts. He began another, different incantation. Harry felt a small tug and accidentally dropped one of the Whiz-bangs he was holding, which slid towards Krum. Pieces of parchment form the judges table, bits of loose pebbles and other bits of rubbish from all around began sliding towards Krum. The random debris rose up above him and gathered into a ball that hovered above the staff. Harry felt the pull get stronger and stronger as he struggled to stop himself from sliding towards Krum as well. A few of his Beasties and an immolation vial slipped out of their belts ended up in the ball of debris. That, apparently was what Krum was waiting for, as he suddenly whirled his staff around, throwing the big ball of junk at Harry.

Harry only just managed to dodge out of the way, but as the mass crashed into the ground, the immolation vial and beasties within were triggered, causing the entire pile to light up on fire and then explode. Harry was struck from behind by flying chunks of burning debris, knocking him flat on his face. _Okay, that hurt. I hope I'm not bleeding... too badly,_ he thought. He rose to his feet woozily, seeing spots. Krum grinned, gathering another ball of junk with the odd, sustained-summoning spell. Harry couldn't help but stumble towards Krum a bit as a few more of his trinkets came loose from his belt. He managed to catch one Whiz-bang in his hand and got an idea. _Well, Krum, if you want these that badly..._ he pulled the emergency release on all his belts, deliberately throwing them all towards the gathering pile. Krum saw what Harry was doing and immediately twirled his staff again, throwing the ball back at Harry.

Harry, however, used the one last Whiz-bang in his and ignited it immediately after releasing his belts. The junk-ball and the fireball met somewhere in the middle of the arena, immediately triggering about six exploding potions, four immolation vials, twelve Bursting Beasties, another eight Whiz-Bangs and various other powders and potions. Harry shielded ducked low and shielded his face, but the resulting explosion still blasted him across the arena, where he skidded off the edge of the platform and fell onto the grass. _Well, at least I went out with a bang this time, _he thought as he blacked out.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- While writing it, I felt that I probably could have thrown in a much wider variety of odd items, but Harry's the one who has final say in what he has to carry into the arena. He probably wouldn't take anything that didn't have a fairly clear use.

**- **For those of you who are curious, this was Harry's "standard" loadout per duel:

- Bursting Beastie x8 (animal-shaped firework that can pester and burn the enemy)  
- Wildfire Whiz-bang x8 (straight-shot firework)  
- Avalanche-in-a-Tube x4 (turns grains of sand into small rocks, pelting the target)  
- Immolation vial x6 (acts like napalm, explodes and spreads flames on the ground)  
- Exploding potion x6 (Self-explanatory)  
- Sticking Solution x3

- Portable Swamp x1  
- Clap Traps x1  
- Instant Darkness Powder x1  
- Unromantic Foam x1 (the twins' Instant Romance Powder deliberately left to rot for a while, and is sticky yet slippery at the same time, like grease)  
- Bag of candies (has assorted candies, letting Harry spit out a short flamethrower, watermelon seeds, water, ice breath, etc. Short-range use only. He didn't get much use out of these.)  
- Shield Hat x1  
- Shield Robe x1

- He took a bunch of extra fireworks against Krum, and fewer things in general against Fleur.


	28. Hasty Decisions

**Author's Notes:**

- Fanfiction writing is not a paying job.

- I've only just come to realize how many characters the Harry Potter universe involves. And that's not counting any "background characters." I keep forgetting about a few of them who should be more important to the story. oh well.

- I know a few reviewers have said that I've made Harry weak and the others stronger. I don't think he's any weaker, in fact, he's actually quite exceptional for a fourth year. I have made Krum stronger, yes. Cedric and Fleur are stronger than Harry only about as much as an average 17-year-old is stronger than an underfed 14-year-old. Quite frankly, the canon champions were fine in the 1st task, kinda dumb in the 2nd, and had Barty Crouch sabotaging them in the 3rd. I don't think we got a chance to see how strong they really were, especially since there was no direct competition between them (i.e. duels).

- For the purposes of this story, Harry is still going through puberty, while the other champions are pretty much at the end of it. Let's just say that magical and physical puberty happen similarly.

- Harry's talent with the Patronus seems to be particular to that spell. I might go into it later, but he never showed himself to be exceptionally good with any other, ordinary spell in the books. In fact, he was only slightly above average, as his OWL scores showed (He only got EE's on charms and transfiguration). The fact that, in fifth year, he ended up teaching it to lots of other kids kind of shows how ordinary he was, actually- most of the other students managed to learn it within a year of practice.

* * *

**Chapter 28: Hasty Decisions**

Harry woke up on a bed and saw a few blurry shapes hovering over him. "Ugh. How did I do?" he asked. He was surprised when it wasn't Hermione's voice answering him.

"They haven't announced the scores yet. You'll be up on stage in a few minutes," a mediwitch answered.

_Back on stage? How long are they waiting for me?_ Harry blinked a few times and got a better look at the witch. "How long was I out?"

"About half an hour. The judges decided it would be improper to announce the scores with two of the champions missing and decided to delay the ceremony," the witch explained.

_Two? _ Harry, surprised, looked around and saw Krum, still in his armour but with a few scratches on his face, lying on the bed next to him.

The Bulgarian was already awake, and seeing that Harry had woken as well, grinned at him. "Mr. Potter. I haff not had such a fight for some time. You verr much different here than vand-duel."

Harry was surprised that Krum was being friendly. The last time he had lost against Fleur, he seemed very bitter, along with the Trial of Water. Harry was pretty sure he hadn't beaten Krum, but he suspected it would probably come out as a tie if both of them were laying here in the healer's tent. "Uh... thanks. I was just running on instinct today. I don't know why I threw all my belts at you, it just felt like the only thing I could do. During the wand-duels I was trying to... match your skill."

"Is that why you verr using such veak distractions? You verr following some plan?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah... Hermione figured the only way I could beat you was to keep you on the defensive and maybe sneak a _Confundus_ somewhere in there," Harry explained.

"Not good strategy. I haff basic occlumency, I always use it in duels. _Convundus _vould do nothing, you vould need something stronger, like _Cogero, Mandatus, _or _Imperio_. Today you are stronger fighter. You are like... cornered animal. Beasts do not vaste time vith strategy. That is why they can be more dangerous than man."

Harry did feel like a cornered animal today. Then again, he did feel like that during the wand duels as well, but he suppressed the feelings while trying out Hermione's plan. Would he have done better just winging it? "Are you saying that I shouldn't try to prepare my fights?" That almost went against everything he had been learning from Moody as well as Hermione.

"No, preparing is for before fighting. Strategy is for opponent you can out-think. For opponent who has more power and more experience, instinct is your route to victory."

Harry doubted that instinct alone would be able to let him defeat Voldemort, but Krum did have a point. If you have nothing left to rely on, fight like a wild animal. It made sense, in a... primal sort of way. "Thanks for the advice, Mr. Krum."

"You can call me Viktor." He extended his hand over and Harry shook it in response.

"Call me Harry, then. Say, what kind of armour is that? It's certainly a lot better than the robes I'm using."

"There is a very good armour-crafter in Russia. This armour is made from Ironbelly Dragon of Ukraine. I must varn you, his skill does not come cheap."

Harry was about to ask how Viktor could have afforded it, but reminded himself that he _was_ already an international star. By then, the mediwitches were done applying the salves, and most of the small cuts and burns were already healing quickly on both of the champions. With a Pepper-Up potion for each of them, they were quickly back on their feet as they made their way back on stage. As the two of them emerged from the tent, a loud cheer erupted from the crowd.

"It looks like our two champions have returned! I wish I could be so young, to be able to recover from such a beating so quickly. Let's have another round of applause for them!" Harry rolled his eyes as Bagman continued to drum up more excitement from the crowd.

"In fourth place, we have Fleur Delacour! She leaves this event with no wins, but still earned twenty points for her masterful use of the traditional Veela Embersword and Windsurge Shield. In addition, she also showed us the fury of her Veela avian form in her duel against Harry Potter. I know I wouldn't want to cross her!" The audience laughed and applauded, while Fleur bowed to the judges, evidently disappointed in herself. Harry noted a flash of shame cross her face when Bagman mentioned her transformation, as well.

"In third place is Cedric Diggory, who earned thirty-five points with one win, one loss, and one stalemate. He earns an additional fifteen points for his use of a Magehand caster-glove, but his lack of a backup plan once his glove's gems were exhausted prevented him earning full points for his preparation." Cedric seemed rather happy with his results and waved to the crowd while still wearing his jewelled glove.

"Second place goes to Harry Potter, who earned forty-five points with one win and two stalemates. His wide variety of odd trinkets and potions, all of which appear to be hand-made, earned him seventeen points. The judges would like to mention to Mr. Potter that a slightly less volatile set of devices could prevent him from being injured by his own weapon." The crowd chuckled at that, while Harry caught a few disapproving glares from the judges. Apparently a few of them were bowled over by the explosion as well. Knowing that the twins were watching, however, he motioned to Mr. Bagman. "It appears that Mr. Potter has something to say."

With a quick _sonorous_, Harry made good on his promise to the twins. "I just want to thank Messrs. Fred and George Weasley for their help today. All the devices I used are available, in slightly less volatile form, of course, via owl-order from the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. You can find them by..." He was interrupted by a firework being launched from the spectator's seats, which shot high up into the air and formed their triple-W logo. Harry could make out the twins standing up and waving. "Um... I guess you can find them right there."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. I'm sure they will have very profitable times ahead. Finally, in first place, we have Viktor Krum, who won two of his duels and ended the last one in a stalemate and earning sixty points. We must congratulate him for his expert use of the ancient and traditional wizard's staff and combining it with modern hitwizard armour, a very potent combination indeed. He earns the full twenty-five point bonus as a result."

Harry was still in first place thanks to his excellent performance in the Trial of Water, but now Krum was in second, and not very far behind either. As they all walked off the stage, Cedric grinned at Harry. "So, you managed to get Fleur mad, eh? I don't like to admit it, but she's usually the one who's in control, if you know what I mean. What did you do to her?"

_I hope he doesn't suspect that I touched her bum or something, _Harry thought. "I kind of... dropped her into a swamp. After dodging all of her attacks, that is. I think she was getting a little frustrated already, but the swamp thing pushed her over the edge. How did you do against her?"

"Oh, I was a mess. I thought I'd be safe keeping my distance, but that sword of hers is unpredictable! I must have gotten burned a dozen times before I managed to finally hit her with a quadruple-powered _expelliarmus_ followed by a stunner. Everything weaker just kept getting deflected by that shield of hers. How did you really manage to dodge all her attacks?"

"Um... Moody told me to learn it for duelling. Constant Vigilance and all," Harry lied, not wanting to give away the full extent of his skills. "So, how does that glove work? Where did you get it?"

"Heidi's grandfather is a jeweller, with a particularly special interest in goblin-made trinkets. I think it's called Telamon's Treasure house." Cedric laughed. "He had quite a story to tell about these gloves. Since they were banned from using wands a few centuries ago, they learned to make these instead. Of course, the ministry confiscated all of them and banned these as well right after they found out. He lent it to me, hoping the publicity would be good for his business. I didn't think about interrupting Bagman on stage like you did, though."

The discussion of the gemmed glove took them back all the way to the champion's tent, where they were very quickly briefed on the next trial- the Trial of Earth. Again, it was one month away, and this time they would be back to their standard equipment- regular robes and a wand. The only clue they were left with was, "Study your potions." Harry wanted to protest, because this was the one thing all three other champions had a clear advantage over him. So far, the three-year gap between him and the other champions didn't show very strongly, because the Trial of Air depended mostly on flying skills, the Trial of Water was more about solving a riddle and getting used to an unusual environment, and the Trials of Champions were about quick thinking, good aim, and reflexes as much as power and spell repertoire. This was the first time he'd been told to simply buckle down and study.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bagman, but could you be a little more specific? I mean, I'd have to catch up on three years' worth of general potions on top of whatever extra I'd need to learn. Could you point me in a general direction, at least?"

Bagman looked at Harry, looking conflicted. "I'm sorry, Harry, but the events and rules were decided well in advance, definitely before your name was placed in the goblet. All I can say is what I've already told you. You need to study potions for the Trial of Earth."

_Well, I guess it narrows it down to "Earth" based potions, but that's still a pretty wide category,_ Harry griped silently. Hadn't he done this before? Then again, did he really try to win last time? He'd need to consult with Hermione. Leaving the tent, he made his way straight to the VIP seats to find her.

"Harry! What on earth were you thinking?" Hermione shrieked as Harry approached her. That certainly wasn't the response he was expecting.

"What do you mean? I was just doing my best in the duels..." Harry gave a cautious smile, not completely sure of why Hermione was so worked up. He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder to calm her. She swatted his hand away.

"You almost got yourself killed, Harry!" Hermione was breathing heavily and on the verge of tears.

"The tournament's always been dangerous, Hermione. You know that! You've been helping me train!" Harry retorted. He felt that she was being uncharacteristically illogical at the moment. It wasn't as if he stayed overnight in the Hospital wing like he'd done so often.

"That doesn't mean you have to make it more dangerous for yourself! You tossed two dozen explosives at once at a ball Krum was banishing towards you! What were you thinking?"

"Krum- Viktor was using my own potions against me! If he did that summoning spell a few more times I would have lost! What else should I have done?"

"You should have lost the duel!"

Harry was stunned by the simplicity of her answer. Why didn't he think of it before? In fact, why didn't he even consider it in the first place? Okay, at the beginning of the tournament, he had known that he needed to stop Cedric from winning, and the easiest way to do that was to simply beat him... but that was just an excuse. He actually liked being in the tournament. He dreaded every event for a few days before each one started, but as soon as it started he got a rush of excitement while he was competing, a wave of relief when it was over, and a surge of anticipation when waiting for his scores. He _wanted_ to win, pure and simple. He summed up his thoughts by telling Hermione, "I don't want to lose."

"And you'd just throw away your own life just for that?" She bit her lip, waiting for his response. Harry noticed that a few people were starting to stare, so he pulled her away from the crowd and tossed up some privacy wards in a secluded area under the bleachers.

"Why are you so worked up about it, Hermione? Besides, even if the worst happens, you'll find me again in the Chamber." Seeing Hermione gasp in response, he knew he'd said exactly what he wasn't supposed to.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Hermione whispered as she finally broke down and a few tears began to fall. "Is that why you're so reckless with your life? Does any of this matter to you, or is it all a game now ? Do... _we_ matter?" She turned and ran back to the castle. Harry wanted to stop her and just tell her that it was obvious all of that mattered to him, but he didn't know how to say it without sounding insincere.

* * *

By Sunday, he still hadn't heard a word from her. He'd woken up early, hoping to catch Hermione coming down the stairs. He waited for hours, only to find Lavender approach him to say that Hermione was moping on her bed and didn't want to come down. A few attempts to coax her out, via Parvati and Lavender, resulted in failure. The entire time he was waiting, he ran through the conversation in his head over and over. _How could she think I didn't care for her anymore? _he wondered. _Maybe I need someone else's perspective on this. Where's Luna?_

He went to his room to get the Marauder's Map. Searching through all the places he thought she'd be for ten minutes, he still couldn't find her name. He then decided to search for Neville instead. Another ten minutes later and he still came up with nothing. Since the map didn't show the Room of Requirement, he made his way over, only to find the room unused. Back in the common room, he flopped on to the couch and yelled, "Where is everyone?" in frustration.

"Hogsmeade, of course. It's Valentine's weekend." Harry turned his head to see Ginny at the opposite end of the couch. "You were really amazing yesterday," she complimented him.

Harry completely missed her last line. _Valentines? It's Valentine's? How could I forget? I've picked the worst time to get into a spat with Hermione, _he realized.

"So why aren't you with Hermione?" Ginny asked, sounding a little too hopeful. "You two didn't... um..."

"We're just having a little disagreement right now. Nothing to worry about," Harry said absently. His mind was racing. Even if he somehow managed to make up with her right this very moment, they wouldn't have enough time to go to Hogsmeade and back. No romantic lunch date... like everyone else was doing.

"Do you need someone to talk to ?" Ginny asked shyly, putting on her cutest expression she could muster. Harry, unfortunately, wasn't really paying attention.

_Talk? She's right. I should talk. I need relationship advice. Now who could I talk to about that? Cedric? He's probably out with Fleur right now. And that would be weird,_ Harry figured. _None of the professors. Are any of them even married?_ he wondered. _Anyone who's in a good relationship right now is probably in Hogsmeade anyways._ He then remembered one person on the outskirts of Hogsmeade who he could be frank with. "Thanks, Ginny. I do need to talk to someone!"

"I meant me!" she squeaked out as Harry fled to his room.

* * *

Harry carried a basket of soup and salad from the kitchens for Sirius and sandwiches for himself. He wanted to thank his godfather for his help just before the duels and tell him about the results. Most of all, he wanted to talk to him about Hermione. He wasn't really sure why, but Sirius seemed to be the best person he knew to talk to about relationship advice, despite the man not having much human contact for the past thirteen years. He did act like he wanted to relive his Hogwarts years again, and talking about school life always seemed to cheer him up the best. It was late afternoon by the time he arrived at the shack. Upon hearing the trap door, Sirius was bounding down the stairs before Harry was all the way inside.

"Harry! I was wondering if you'd show up today. Where's your girl? I thought you'd be spending the day with her!" Sirius was obviously bored to death with nobody to talk to, but at least he was more energetic than ever, since he was able to roam the Forbidden Forest at nights in his dog form.

Harry set the basket down between them and looked down glumly. "Hermione and I had a little argument," he began. "I was wondering if you had any advice for me."

"Had, or are you still having it?"

"It's still going," Harry admitted reluctantly.

"So what happened? Did you put the moves on her a bit too early? I did that myself a few times, I have to admit. Can't count how many times I've been slapped," he said, going into his reminiscing mode.

"No, it's nothing like that!" Harry stopped his imagination from going any further. He tried to think of an analogy that he could use to explain the situation, but was having a hard time figuring it out. "Well... ummm... so Hermione and I have this special meeting spot... and we've sort made sure that if the two of us got separated... we'd be able to meet up again there..."

"So this was on a date? Was it today?"

Harry didn't want to give too much away, but the analogy was already failing. "I'm not going to say. But the thing is, she kind of got mad at me for... going off and doing my own thing... and then she got really angry when I said that we could have just met up at our meeting spot again..."

"Hold up, Harry. You were going out with her, and then you got distracted by something and got separated, and when you two met up again you thought everything was fine and dandy?"

"Uh, no, we didn't actually get separated, but... um... she was worried that she might have lost me at some point. I just suggested that it wouldn't have been a big deal."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, normally it wouldn't be such a big deal, but today's special, isn't it? Look, girls her age are pretty emotional. Sometimes they just need reassurance, a few constant reminders of how much you care about them. Today should have been all about Hermione. Hold the door open, pull out the chair for her, compliment her on her hair or her perfume every few minutes... it's the little things that add up to really make her day. It's not that wasting a few minutes would really kill the date, but the fact that you'll be making her work to go looking for you, right?"

Harry sighed. He probably should have stopped earlier, but now Sirius had fully assumed Harry just wrecked a Valentine's date at Hogsmeade. He may as well run with it. "I guess I can see what you mean. But then she said something that confused me... I think she was implying I wasn't really interested in her, or our relationship, at all. Then she stormed off before I could say anything."

"Really? Hermione? She never seemed to be so... flighty before. Then again, I can't say I'm the best judge of character..."

Harry knew he was referring to Pettigrew, but he wasn't going to let Sirius go into another slump. "Sirius, focus. She's the most committed and loyal friend I could ask for, and just as wonderful a girlfriend. I just don't know what made her think that I'd give that all up."

Sirius scratched his chin. "Can't see why it's bothering her so much then. It's not like you were planning on just ending the date then and there and meeting back at Hogwarts, were you?"

Harry was amazed by Sirius' insightful accuracy. "Uh... well, I guess meeting up again would mean that the day was over..."

Sirius's eyes boggled out. "You really agreed to meet back at _Hogwarts_ if you got separated in Hogsmeade? I expect my godson to treat his dates better than that! Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry... you said it would mean nothing if you just up and left her in Hogsmeade so she could walk back to the castle alone? You just ruined her day completely, Harry."

Amazed by how he managed to get the right answers by some wayward analogy, Harry just sat silently. He wouldn't have just ruined her _day_. It was like he would be giving up the last eight months or so- the summer, the evenings, the holiday break and the ball- without second thought. He _really_ screwed up this time. "Oh god, I've been a right arse, haven't I?"

"That you have, Harry."

"So now that I've figured out the problem, how do I go about apologizing to her?" Harry asked, staring blankly into space.

"The way I see it, you owe her an entire day. Soon. Valentine's day would be best and the most meaningful, but that's on a Tuesday this year. This might be something worth skiving off the day's classes and getting a few detentions for, if you get my drift."

"Lucky I'm a Triwizard Champion, I can skive off whenever I want, though I don't think Professor Moody will appreciate it too much."

"And you'd better start with an apology right away. She probably doesn't want to look at you, so do it in writing. And promise her something special on Tuesday to make up for it. Did you just say _Professor Moody?_"

"Yeah, the retired Auror Moody is our DADA teacher this year. I'll tell you about it later; I've got some letters to write. Thanks for the advice, Sirius."

"No problem, pup. Next time you come back, bring Hermione with you."

* * *

The sky was dark by the time Harry returned to the castle. It was well past dinner time, but curfew hadn't started yet. Taking a peek at the map again, he saw Hermione on her bed again. _Has she had anything to eat? She must have._ He decided to visit the kitchens again just in case to pick something up. The elves suggested "comfort food" and brought out a small shepherd's pie and a butterbeer. Wrapping the dish and utensils up in a small box, he also asked for some bacon before heading up to the Owlery.

"Hedwig? I think I'll need your help tonight. Come with me," he said as he stretched out his free arm. Hedwig happily hopped down and they marched back to the dorms.

"Sparkling," was the password he gave to the Fat Lady. The twins had suggested that one to the prefects.

The portrait looked at him, and then to Hedwig, and said, "You know, it's traditional to take your parchment to your owl instead of your owl to your parchment."

"It's almost curfew and I've got a few letter to write," Harry replied dryly as he stepped inside.

"Well, you should just wait until tomorrow to deliver your letters, then!" the Fat Lady cried as she closed behind him. He quickly made his way past the few Gryffindor couples who were brave enough to snog in the common room, which included Fred and Angelina.

"Thanks for the endorsement, mate!" Fred called out to Harry. "We sold out of our entire stock of Valentine's products in one day because of you!" Harry only nodded in response. When he finally made it to his room, Hedwig flew off his arm and settled on the bedpost. Harry immediately sat down on his desk and began writing.

_Dear Hermione,  
__I know I said something completely stupid yesterday. I shouldn't have considered using your device just so I could be reckless with the tournament. If I had to choose between you and winning, I'd choose you any time. I'm sorry for forgetting that. I'm not very good at putting all this down in a letter, so what I'd really like to do is apologize to you, face to face._

_I'm worried sick about you right now. I don't mean to sound like Mrs. Weasley, but you should have something to eat. The girls were saying you didn't leave your room. I got some meat pie for you._

_Love,  
__Harry._

Harry then tied the note to Hedwig's leg along with the dinner, and instructed her, "Make sure she gets it, alright? Wait with her until she writes back, but don't pester her about it. Don't peck her or bite her or anything if she doesn't want to write, but stay with her until she does, okay?" Hedwig quickly flew out the window and immediately made her way to the girl's side of the dorm. Ten minutes later, Harry was pacing back and forth in his room, wondering if Hermione would accept his apology. After another ten, he was lying on his bed, dreading the prospect that he'd ruined everything. He was just about to give up when Hedwig came soaring back inside, dropping a piece of parchment on top of him.

_Dear Harry,  
__Do you know angry I am at you right now? You were almost as bad as Ron for a moment yesterday. I was scared you were using me just like Ron used me for his essays. I was scared out of my wits when I thought I had nearly lost both of my best friends at school and I spent the rest of the day wondering if it was worth keeping friends if I was only good for being a tool for them. It took a good night's rest, and some more wallowing in self-pity in the morning before I finally came to my senses and remembered how much you've done for me, too. I finally got ready to confront you this afternoon and then I hear you've run off somewhere! Now we've no time for ANY private discussion until classes end tomorrow evening._

_I want to ask you something before you talk to me tomorrow: What is the one thing you want most from me?_

_Still open to the idea of forgiveness,  
Hermione._

_P.S. I did have myself some dinner, and I noticed you weren't there either. You didn't really expect me not to eat anything all day, do you? Thank you for the pie anyways._

Harry smacked his head. Talk about bad timing! He had just missed her. She did pose a tricky question for him, though. What did he want from her the most? He was always thankful for her intelligence, which had saved him often, but it wasn't as if he couldn't learn from his professors, other than Snape. She had stuck by him through thick and thin. Her friendship and loyalty was the strongest of anyone he'd befriended, but that wasn't something he could just _demand _from her. Then there was the time he spent with her. Just spending the time alone with her helped calm him down and wash away his worries. Would it feel nearly as soothing if she wasn't so exceptional in every other way as well? How could he narrow any of it down to just one trait? He dipped his quill into his ink bottle and started on another letter.

_Dear Hermione,  
__Thanks for reading my letter. I was afraid you might have tossed it straight into the rubbish bin. I had to go see Snuffles this afternoon before I realized how amazingly stupid I was. I promise I'll make it up to you. Do you think you could forgive me by Valentine's Day? I want to do something special for you._

_Now to answer your question, I don't think I can do it properly. You're my friend who loves me for who I am. You always have an answer for me when I'm in a fix. You've stood by my side when nobody else would. You've sat beside me in the hospital wing more times than I can count. You rescued me from the Dursleys this summer. I don't think I can ask for anything from you. I just want you by my side so I can thank you for making my life better._

_Eternally grateful,  
Harry_

With another piece of bacon in her beak, Hedwig was happily making the short trip over to the girl's side of Gryffindor Tower. What Harry didn't know was that Hermione was feeding her bits of her shepherd's pie as well. The snowy owl's treat-to-flight ratio would be very high tonight. Hermione's reply was much more prompt this time.

_Dear Harry,  
__Do you have someone over there helping you write your letters? Is Snuffles giving you advice? I'd tell you to stop being so sappy if I didn't enjoy it so much. You're such a hopeless romantic. Anyways, I can't stay mad at you with an answer like that, but I still haven't forgiven you for being stupid yesterday. Thank goodness you didn't mention a certain OWL project in your response._

_Now, whether or not I'll forgive you by Valentine's hinges on two questions. First, would you have asked me to be your girlfriend if I hadn't come to you with my OWL project? Second, what are you planning for Tuesday?_

_Amused and amiable,  
Hermione_

Harry grinned. Things were looking up.

_Dear Hermione,  
__The answer to your first question is I don't know, but I would have been stupid not to. Everything in my life has been so much better since I've become friends with you that I regret it took until Halloween of first year, because that meant missing out on two months with you. If I didn't figure it out by summer, then I would have when my name popped out of the goblet. You were the one who stood by me then. I'm not good at guessing what would have happened, but what's important to me is that you're with me now, and I wouldn't trade that for anything. Please forgive me, Hermione._

_The answer to your second question is a surprise. You'll have to wear your dress again, though._

_Thanking the stars for my good fortune,  
__Harry_

He happily fed Hedwig another bit of bacon and she was off. Hermione's reply came in minutes.

_Dear Harry,  
__Thanking the stars? You should be thanking me for being so generous. Since you didn't answer my questions, you're not totally forgiven yet. You think you can tell me what to do? You're supposed to be apologizing! Do you have any idea how hard it is to do up my hair and makeup like at the ball? This had better be worth it._

_Shaking my head at the things I do for you,  
__Hermione_

Harry was immensely relieved that Hermione was being playful again. At least, he thought she was. If was misinterpreting this letter, there would be no saving him.

_Dear Hermione,  
__You're right, I should have thanked you instead of the stars. Divination and astronomy were never my friends anyways. I'm grovelling right now as I write this letter. I'm begging for your forgiveness. I'll stay down here until you tell me I can get up, or until I have to start getting ready for your fabulous Valentine's evening, whichever comes first._

_With aching knees,  
__Harry_

Harry really did get on his knees as he scribbled out the letter quickly, out of sheer amusement. He wondered what Hermione's response would be.

_Dear Harry,  
__Are you seriously on your knees right now? Would you sleep like that if I told you to?_

_Blinking in disbelief,  
__Hermione_

Harry responded with an even shorter letter.

_Dear Hermione,  
__Yes and yes._

_Looking for a way to rest my head,  
__Harry_

To Harry's amazement, Hedwig refused her bit of bacon this time. The owl had been positively stuffed with bacon and meat, and she was feeling a little bloated. A proud owl like herself had to watch her figure, no matter how much she loved bacon.

_Dear Harry  
__You are such a silly goose. I'm not that mean, you know. I'll forgive you temporarily for tonight so you can actually get some rest. You had better be waiting for me in the common room tomorrow morning at 8 AM sharp, though._

_Going to bed,  
__Hermione_

Harry smiled. "You can go to your roost now, Hedwig. Thanks for your help tonight."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- current triwizard scores:

Harry 259  
Viktor 226  
Cedric 220  
Fleur 197

- learning via making mistakes, sometimes deliberately, is often a very fun and effective way to learn. I speak from experience.


	29. We Need to Talk

**Author's Notes:**

- HP is copyrighted and not by me

- Chinese New Year's coming up, I might not get out updates as quickly for the next week or so.

* * *

**Chapter 29: We Need to Talk**

Harry got up bright and early on Monday, well before the sun came up. He had an hour before he was supposed to see Hermione. Half an hour to clean up, get changed, and then another half an hour of waiting just to be safe. He ended up sitting in one of the armchairs in the common room, watching the girls' stairs. _Wait, this doesn't look good,_ he realized. He got up from the chair and stood facing the stairs with his arms crossed. _Ack! This makes me look like I'm angry or something_, he thought as he placed his hands in his pockets. _No, too casual_. He put his arms behind him. Pacing back and forth, he started to worry that being empty-handed in itself wasn't a good idea. He tried conjuring a few flowers, but a once-living, highly detailed object was difficult to make. The first one, a rose, came out looking more like a big, red daisy. He tried a tulip instead, hoping that the simpler flower would work better. He ended up making something with the proper shape, but it had one giant cup-shaped petal. He kept trying one after the other and forgot about the time.

"You know, you don't have to conjure them individually. There's a spell for making flowers. _Orchideous._" Harry looked up to see Hermione standing there at the top of the stairs with a small bouquet sprouting from her wand. He dropped his latest attempt on to the pile at his feet. The earlier attempts were already vanishing, but he was still ankle-deep in poorly conjured flowers.

"Oh... I didn't know that. Um... these are for you?" Harry couldn't believe he had become so distracted.

"Oh, wow. These are some of the... ugliest flowers I've ever seen," Hermione said, picking one up off the floor. "Except maybe the _Rafflesia _flower. But I guess it's the thought that counts." She giggled lightly, twirling the misshapen flower in her hands.

"_Orchideous._ Oh, wow, that was easy," Harry said, trying out the bouquet spell. "Why don't you take these ones instead?"

She took the flowers from him and sniffed them. "Thanks, Harry. Let's sit down. We need to talk."

Harry did, noting that Hermione also set up a strong silencing and notice-me-not wards around the couch. This couldn't be a good thing. "Uh, should we go somewhere more private? Wards are good and all, but if we have to keep a secret..."

"No, this doesn't really have anything to do with our... OWL project, Harry. I wanted to talk to you about... you."

"What about me? I understand what you meant after the duel, and I'm sorry I went overboard..."

"I know, Harry, and I accept your apology... but now that I've given it some more thought... how should I put this? I think it's a symptom of a bigger problem."

"A bigger problem? What do you mean?"

"Do you remember the night before the first Trial of Champions?"

Harry smiled. That was a memorable night for him, and not one he'd forget that easily. "Of course. That was right after our practice duel. That's when I really realized how important you were to me." He had a sinking feeling in his heart as he awaited Hermione's response. Her feelings hadn't changed, had they?

Hermione sensed his tension building, and responded reassuringly, "I still meant everything I said. I love you, Harry, and I always want you to be a part of my life. But some of the things you said... well, they felt romantic at the time, and I guess it might have been the atmosphere or something else... but I'm worried."

"What was it that I said?" asked Harry.

"Do you really mean you have nothing else to live for, Harry? I know the Dursleys treat you badly, and I'm sorry your parents are gone... but surely I'm not the only thing in your life that keeps you going, am I? What do you want to do with your life?"

Harry paused for a few seconds, but ended up with only a weak, "I do have to kill Voldemort..."

"What you want to do, Harry, not what you have to. What if you could forget all that destiny and fate rubbish and just let the adults handle it? What would you do with your life then?"

"I've never given it much thought. Get through the tournament this year. Get through school. Live out my life with you." He gave a half-hearted smile at the last line.

"So you really don't have any goals for your life, do you? This year, at least, you've got a nice temporary goal of winning the tournament, and you're putting a lot of energy into it- more effort than I've seen you put into anything else, to be honest."

She was right, of course. The first three years he had been forced into do-or-die situations and he was scared out of his mind every time, but the tournament had never really put his life on the line. He could have conceded and put in a lacklustre effort, but he still fought for the prize as if he were facing Voldemort again. And he had started to enjoy it. "Yeah, I guess I have. It's fun, putting my passion into the events."

"And all of them are just... temporary. The tournament will be over at the end of the year. We'll defeat Voldemort somehow... I'm sure of it... before we're twenty. I'm not sure if I could be the only thing for you to dedicate your life to, Harry. I want to stand beside you, not hold you up."

Once again, Hermione was talking concepts that he'd never thought of before and was having a hard time understanding, but he knew that this time it wasn't just because he hadn't read the same books as her. "How about you, then? Could I get some examples from you?" he asked for clarification.

"Me? I want to change wizarding society completely. Bring it up to modern muggle standards. Get rid of the bigotry and racism, equal rights for sentient beings instead of just labelling them as 'creatures', oh, and learn as much as I can, of course."

Harry was stunned. Hermione had such lofty goals... a few of which she might not see within her lifetime, but they were certainly goals she could strive for her entire life. He didn't have anything that came close. "I'm... going to have to think about that for a while."

"Thanks, Harry. That's all I really wanted for now. I didn't expect you suddenly decide to build a city on the moon or something right now... I just want to know that you'll be thinking about your own life a bit more." Hermione got up, dispelling the wards she had set up earlier. "We should go to breakfast. Are you coming to Potions?"

"No, I have to actually study my potions." Harry had spent most of the last few weeks of potions deliberately getting on Snape's nerves, and had actually learned more about potions in the process. While the rest of the class worked on theirs by following the textbook, Harry had often deliberately made mistakes in his. Sometimes he stirred too quickly or too little, other times he would drop ingredients out of order, or vary the temperature here and there. While initially it was to both annoy the professor and waste a few ingredients, Harry soon began taking notes as he discovered some of his intentional mistakes had consistent and predictable results. Brewing wasn't nearly as dangerous as Snape had implied, and Neville must have been some kind of genius to make his potions keep exploding, because Harry only managed it once, despite his efforts. He was beginning to learn far more about potions with his little experimentation than simply following the recipes. In fact, it was a lot like cooking, which he did a lot for the Dursleys. It was odd coincidence how both Potions class and cooking for two tubs of lard were both the most distasteful routines in his life.

"What?" Hermione cocked her head to the side, with a smile. She was glad that Harry was still able to make a joke after such a serious discussion. She did also learn to enjoy Harry's potions experiments, after he began to take notes, at least.

"The next task is the Trial of Earth. And Bagman gave us a hint. He just said 'study your potions.' I'll be going to the library," Harry explained. "I actually need to learn the potions instead of learn about brewing in general, so I'll be reading some textbooks." It would also give him a nice, quiet place to think if he got bored of reading, and Hermione had given him a lot to think about.

"Alright then. I'm still looking forward to what you've planned for Valentine's, Harry."

"You're going to love it," Harry assured her.

* * *

The potions research was actually a lie. Partial lie, at least. He intended to sneak out to Hogsmeade that morning and study potions later, when he got back. He had a particular piece of jewellery to buy, and if they didn't have it, then he'd pay them to make one. Taking the passage through the one-eyed witch into Hogsmeade, he stayed under his invisibility cloak until he was at the jeweller's. Navigating through town was far simpler on a school day- Harry never noticed before, but the students made up more than three-quarters of the pedestrians during Hogsmeade weekends.

"Hello there... oh, you're a Hogwarts student. Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" the owner of the shop, Henry MacCullan, said with a quick glance from his newspaper.

"Not if I don't want to," Harry answered.

"You're gonna regret skiving off class when you're looking for a job in a few years, kid," the man said. "You'd better not... Oh! Mr. Potter!" He finally put down his paper and got a good look at Harry. He was the one from whom Harry had bought Hermione's earrings.

"Yes, I'm back. I'd like a locket. Two of them, in fact. They need to be able to hold a small photo inside." Harry had the picture of the New Year's Ball in mind.

"Why didn't you come here yesterday? I'm sold out of little love-lockets. Seems like the French boys all wanted to buy one for their belles. Not that I'd turn down their business, but they could use a little more independent thinking, you know."

Harry hesitated, wondering if this was a problem. He didn't think he was being especially creative, but he also didn't think that everyone else had been buying lockets as well. Still, he had already received the extra copies of the photos from Colin and a locket would be a nice place to have a copy. "Then could you make me one? I guess I might as well stick to birthstones... Hermione's is sapphire, mine would be... rubies?" For the next hour, he and Mr. MacCullan discussed what Harry wanted. They would be two golden lockets that mirrored each other with a lion and lioness. A single ruby or sapphire would adorn each one, and they opened up to contain a picture of their kiss at the ball. The jeweller initially balked at the idea of completing both by tomorrow, but agreed to it when Harry paid him up front.

Finally satisfied, Harry realized this was the perfect time to ask a few questions that had been on his mind. "Do you know about storing magic inside gemstones?"

"You can use a wand to charge it up, for sure. If you just force some random magic inside, they'll sparkle brighter, o' course. I could do that for you, free o' charge. It's not too difficult."

"Well, what about storing magic and releasing it later, for casting spells?" Harry asked.

"Oh, are you talking about Mr. Diggory's caster-glove? Yes, impressive stuff, I have to say. I can't do that for your locket, for a couple o' reasons. First, them half-carat ruby and sapphire you picked won't hold much. One spell, nothing too powerful. Diamonds are the best, o'course. Half-carat diamond could hold a few spells." Harry figured as much. Cedric's glove was studded with dozens of gems, and it only held about thirty spells.

"And the next problem is the material. The gold locket won't conduct magic. None of them metals will."

Harry was surprised. "But Cedric's glove was made of gold... or something that looked liked gold. It was definitely metal."

"Sheesh, do I look like a goblin to you, mate?" Seeing Harry's confused expression, he went on. "Only goblins know how to make metals that can channel and contain magic, Mr. Potter. I thought that was common knowledge. 's why goblin steel and jewellery is so damn valuable. None of them will share their secret with us wizards."

"I'm muggle-raised, but thanks for telling me," Harry growled. Situations like these always reminded him how his life had been completely different from what everyone always thought he was. "So if you made jewellery out of something that could channel magic... like... wood..."

"What kind of daft fool would buy a three-galleon jewel and stick it on a three-knut piece of wood? Look, a word of advice- if you're worried about how you can cast spells if you lose your wand... buy a second wand."

"Fine, fine... thanks for the tip," Harry muttered as he left. It was well after lunch by the time he got back to the castle, grabbed some lunch from the kitchens and went straight to the library.

* * *

Studying wasn't going as well as Harry had imagined. On the long walks to and from Hogsmeade, he had a lot of time to think about his talk with Hermione that morning. What _did_ he want to do with his life? The thoughts trickled into his mind as he looked through the various books.

_Look after Sirius? _Harry thought as he looked through the table of contents of the upper-year potions texts. _No, I just need to clear his name. That'll happen after I catch Pettigrew. He's certainly not some old senior that needs tending to._

He sighed, finding nothing of use. _What the heck does an Earth-based potion mean anyways?_ At least that meant he was in the same boat as the others. His eyes fell on a book on magical fertilizers and potions. _Maybe I can solve world hunger or something. That's rather vague. Does that mean I have to be a farmer or something?_ Abandoning the idea, he turned his focus back on to potions.

Once he'd realized the Trial of Earth would take only a day, if the current pattern held true, he ruled out all the potions that required more than a few hours to brew, as well as the ones whose effects weren't immediate. From this book, there were only three that fit the bill. One was a Bloom potion, which made a flower bloom immediately no matter what season it was, although it died just as quickly afterwards. Another was a simple plant maturation potion that aged a plant several weeks in a day, and the last one was a soil-softening potion, which turned subsoil into topsoil. The problem was that the first two seemed to deal more with _plants_ than _earth_ while the last one didn't feel like something that tested a Triwizard champion's mettle.

_Is there anything I could use my fame for other than be the subject of gossip?_ He turned back to wondering as he put down the agriculture-potion book. _I hate the way the Prophet keeps paying Skeeter for those articles. Teen Witch Weekly is almost as bad, but hopefully they'll stop when I get older. Maybe I should start my own newspaper_, he concluded. The idea didn't go very far, though, as he really didn't enjoy writing articles himself, nor did he fancy being an editor. Hermione always caught mistakes in his essays when she proofread for him, anyways. He just wanted to own one, and the only reason for that was to stop all the gossip.

Harry sighed. Whatever he had decided for his future, he didn't want it to involve potions. He was sure of that much at least. He tried searching for potions that used rocks as an ingredient. Unfortunately, there wasn't a convenient tome of "rock-based potions" to pull off the shelves. He ended up picking a few out and flipping through the ingredient lists, seeing if any potions matched his criteria. Four books later and he was still empty-handed. _If Hermione were here, I'd be getting this done twice as fast,_ he thought dejectedly. _No, three times as fast. She can absorb books faster than I can skim them,_ he corrected himself. He left his piles of books to go to the front of the library and check the clock, hoping to see if classes were over so that he could continue the studying with Hermione. He was surprised to find that dinner had already started. Classes had ended hours ago.

He ran up to the Great Hall, where the Gryffindor table was oddly empty. An entire section of students were missing- the fourth-year students. Upon seeing him, Angelina immediately said, "Harry, I think you should go visit the Hospital Wing right now." Harry didn't wait a second as he bolted from the Great Hall.

The hospital wing contained a surprising number of Gryffindors- about half a dozen, in fact. Most of them were in coughing and in mild pain, but conscious. Hermione, however, was laying in her bed with her eyes closed. "Hermione!" he cried out as he ran to her side. Seeing no response, he asked, "What happened?" to nobody in particular.

"Her potion blew up," came the response from the next bed over. Ron was laying there with a few empty potions vials next to him. "And where were you? Funny how the moment Hermione needs help you're nowhere to be found. Some Gryffindor you are. Or did you just let it happen just because she broke up with you?"

Rumours of their relationship troubles had been greatly exaggerated, as rumours often were. He was about to retort angrily, but Neville spoke up from further down. "Oh, come off it, Ron, everyone knows it was Malfoy. Are you actually taking the Slytherins' side on this one?"

"Of course not! I'd never defend those slimy snakes!" Ron's excitement led him to a fit of coughing. "But the day after they have a spat, Harry doesn't show up and Hermione gets hurt? You keep telling me I'm jealous, but at least I was there to help her out!"

"You practically fell on top of her, coughing," snorted Seamus, on the next bed over. "I wouldn't call that helping."

"Wait, what did Malfoy do? Why are there so many of you in here?" Harry directed his question to Neville this time, hoping to get a straight answer.

"Well... nobody actually saw him do it, but he was smirking like he knew what was going on. Hermione's potion blew up, and all of us nearby caught a whiff of the stuff and we fell down coughing. Hermione caught it right in her face, though, and she just dropped to the floor. The ones who weren't helping us up ended up attacking the Slytherins. Snape gave all the Gryffindors detentions, except for us who had to go to the Hospital wing. Of course, the Slytherins get away as usual," Neville explained with a hoarse voice.

"Snape even gave detentions to the ones who were helping us," Ron spat bitterly.

By then, Madam Pomfrey had heard the commotion and was coming forward with a tray full of potions. "Mr. Potter, I'm glad to see you've finally arrived, but as you can tell, Miss Granger is not in any condition for visitors. You can help me distribute these Breath Freshener potions."

"Why would they need...?" Harry didn't understand why sweet-smelling breath would be important to their recovery.

"It helps clean out the lungs if you inhale something bad," Neville explained. "I've had these before... several times a year, to be honest," he admitted with some embarrassment. Evidently, a fresh breath meant something slightly different to wizards than it did to muggles.

"Thank you, Mr. Longbottom, although I have to say I'm glad that this is the first time I've had to administer this potion to you this school year," Madam Pomfrey smiled as she carefully dripped a few drops into Hermione's mouth. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter, I'll have her up and running in a few hours. This is a pretty common affliction."

"Yeah, don't I know it," Neville laughed weakly, which turned into more coughing. "Although I have to say that one potion usually does the trick."

"Perhaps I just need to order a fresher batch of freshener," Madam Pomfrey said. "I was expecting to use up the first batch months ago..."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Neville responded. He seemed to be the one student who saw Madam Pomfrey more often than Harry did, and they could chat like friends.

Harry, however, was worried. What _had_ Malfoy done? What if it wasn't just a routine potions mishap, and the potions weren't effective for another reason? What if Hermione didn't recover? He couldn't bear to lose her, especially when he had just promised her the best night of her life tomorrow. He had to be sure... and to do that, he needed to find Malfoy.

* * *

Tracking down Draco was easy with the Marauder's Map in hand. The problem was separating him from his goons so he could have some time alone to interrogate him. As usual, he was being flanked by Crabbe and Goyle as he marched through the halls. Harry waited under his invisibility cloak, tailing them until the three were alone in a corridor. With a quick stunning spell at Crabbe and Goyle, the two beefy bodyguards dropped straight to the floor. Draco looked around and panicked when he didn't see anyone. Harry stunned him before he could even draw his wand, and then petrified and bound him for good measure. Draco was still using a wand-holster- Harry removed it and kept the wand in his pocket. Now he faced the problem of moving them somewhere for interrogation.

There was no way he would be moving all three, so he just levitated Draco's body. He cast simple confounding charms on the other two left them on the floor. He looked at the map, searching for an unused classroom that was more secluded to do the interrogating. That was a problem... to get to any of them, Harry would have to walk past crowds of students or professors. He wasn't going to get snug with Draco underneath his cloak. Then again... he only had to hide Draco, didn't he?

Harry took off his cloak and threw it over Draco's body. Perfect. Now he kept one hand on Draco's invisible shoulder as he walked down the hall, keeping the invisible Slytherin hovering close by so he wouldn't bump into anyone. He wasn't quite as careful about not letting Draco bump into _things_, like corners. He was still trying to navigate to the empty third floor corridor (where a three-headed dog once resided) when he realized he was walking past the second-floor girl's bathroom. _Even better,_ Harry realized.

"Oooh, I heard your girlfriend was dying, Harry," Myrtle cheerfully greeted Harry as he entered.

"She's not dying," Harry answered firmly, though he'd find out for sure in a few minutes.

"Shouldn't you have jumped in front of her and used your body as a shield? Then, when you died, she could have kept your fleshy body to mourn over and your spirit can come haunt the castle with me!" Myrtle suggested, brimming with glee.

That was a little too morbid for his taste in jokes, even with a ghost. "If that happened, I'd haunt Hermione to keep her company instead. But you know what? If things don't go as planned for me, you might have a new companion soon." Myrtle squealed in delight and into a toilet. Finally rid of the ghost, he spoke the parseltongue password to the sink. Pulling his invisibility cloak off Draco to keep it clean, they slid down the tube and eventually made their way to the main chamber.

Harry laid Malfoy in the center of the chamber, choosing to use Malfoy's wand to maintain a weak _Lumos_, keeping most of the chamber shrouded in darkness. He wondered if Draco was afraid of the dark... he could always test that out if the boy was uncooperative. "_Enervate._ Hello, Malfoy. I'm here to ask you a few questions." Realizing Malfoy was trying to speak, but couldn't move anything but his eyes, he added, "Oh, silly me. _Finite._" He removed the petrification spell but kept the ropes on him.

"You've got nothing on me, Potter. That filthy mudblood just got what was coming to her. Insufferable know-it-all finally got her potions wrong," Draco smirked. "You think you're going to get away with this?"

Harry practiced his internal occlumency to keep himself as calm as possible. It wouldn't do to knock Draco out again when he needed to get information out of him. "Malfoy, you must be stupider than Goyle if you think I believe that story for one second. Now what did you do to Hermione's potion?"

"From where I was standing, it looked like the powdered billagrut shell just blew up in her face because she didn't add it properly. Even Madam Pomfrey said so," Draco was still smirking confidently. Harry could tell through his legilimency that Draco wasn't exactly lying, but there was deception. This was a rehearsed response.

"Shut it, Malfoy. You're lying, and I can tell. You need more practice with that. Aren't Slytherins supposed to be good at lying? Now tell me what you did to her potion."

Draco remained as arrogant as he could be, tied up and on the floor. "You're going to Azkaban for this, Potter. My father will make sure of it. If that mudblood dies, all the better."

Harry wasn't thinking that far ahead, but it would be his word against Draco's, anyways. The threat against Hermione's life didn't pass by unnoticed, though. "Now why would you think she was dying of a simple potions mishap, Malfoy? Neville gets them several times a year. She should be better by now."

Draco hesitated, realizing what the slip of his tongue had revealed. He remained silent.

"Tell me, Malfoy. Tell me before I have to hurt you for it." Harry was starting to have a little difficulty staying calm now.

"Hurt me? This is revenge, Potter. You broke my wand. I'm just taking away your wench."

Harry's eyes widened in fury. "I'm going to tell you a short story, because I don't want to waste too much time, and it really only happened this morning anyways. Hermione and I talked. She pointed out that I really don't have many good things in life, but she's one of them. I've been thinking about it all day, Malfoy, and I've come to realize that, for the moment at least, there aren't many things I'd dedicate my life to other than her. Do you know what happens when you take away a man's only joy in the world?" Draco stared back at him without a reply. "I don't know either, but if it means making you suffer to get her back, then that's what I'll do." He had wanted to say something profound or dramatic, but nothing had come to mind at that moment.

"You're a half-blood bastard, Potter. You goody-goody Gryffindors haven't got the stones to torture someone. The only reason you're not in there is because my father ordered me to keep my hands off you. Like I said, when I'm out of here, you'll be in Azkaban."

"I can't do anything to you? WHEN you get out of here? You sound so sure of that, Malfoy. Do you know where you are? Take a look behind you." Harry rolled Draco with his foot to help him see a huge, scaly wall. When Harry increased the power of his lighting charm, Draco realized he was looking at an enormous, dead basilisk that was thicker than he was tall. "I killed that two years ago. You seriously think you can do anything to me?"

Draco was horror-struck by the sight. Being dead didn't stop the mouthful of poisonous fangs from being amazingly scary. Harry continued. "You get it now, don't you? This is the Chamber of Secrets. Nobody could find it for fifty years after it first opened, and only a parselmouth can open the entrance anyways. You can't get out, and nobody will find you unless I say so. So tell me, you little inbred coward, what did you do to Hermione?"

Draco was finally cracking under the fear of being locked in the chamber. He stammered out, "Wispen b-bone powder. It-it looks s-similar to billagrut shell powder."

"Good. That wasn't so hard, was it, Malfoy? Now what's the antidote?"

"I don't know."

"WHAT IS IT?" Harry couldn't believe that Draco would be stupid enough to use a dangerous substance without knowing its antidote. But then again, Draco probably got into Slytherin for his purebloodedness, not his cunning.

"I said I don't know!" Harry could tell that Draco wasn't lying this time. Now he was stuck down here without an answer. Would Madam Pomfrey know? That was his only hope now.

"Draco, I was going to let you go when you told me how to cure Hermione. Since you don't know, it's up to Madam Pomfrey now. You're going to stay down here until she gets better. Do you have any more advice that could... speed up your own freedom?"

"You can't do this to me, Potter! You-" Harry stunned Draco when it was clear the boy had no more useful information for him and left the Chamber. He ran to the Hospital Wing as quickly as his legs would take him.

* * *

"Madam Pomfrey!" he shouted as he burst inside, only to find the woman standing right in front of him.

"No shouting in here, young man!" She berated him in a loud whisper. "I've just put most of my patients to sleep, and it's nearly curfew for you as well. Visiting hours are over."

"No... I've found out why... your potions haven't been working as well as they should have..." he panted out.

"What? What do you mean?" The matron was surprised to hear a student suggest they knew more than she did, but she wasn't arrogant enough to brush off potential insights to a difficult case.

"It was wispen bone powder, not billagrut shell. Someone slipped it into Hermione's potion." Harry realized just then that Draco could only lie so effectively if he hadn't actually done it himself. He needed to find out who the accomplice was... but right now, his concern was for Hermione.

"Professor Snape doesn't use wispen bone in any of our potions, up to NEWT level. I don't think he even keeps any in stock..." she furrowed her brow, but added hesitantly, "You're suggesting this was sabotage?"

"Do you really think the brightest witch of our age who has brewed potions perfectly for years would mess up something this simple?" Harry knew she couldn't have made a mistake- the potion they had been brewing was the Awake and alert potion, a simpler variant to the Pepper-up.

"No, I suppose not. I don't know where you got the idea, but inhaling either of the two would produce similar symptoms... although wispen bone is more painful and lasts longer. It certainly wouldn't hurt to check." Madam Pomfrey went straight to Hermione, trapping some of her breath in some sort of medical device, and she cast a few diagnostic charms. A few minutes later, she put it down. "Ah, it was a mixture of both, actually. I knew I found billagrut shell on my first diagnosis. Thank you, Mr. Potter. I can start brewing up the right potion for them immediately."

"Can I do anything to help?" Harry asked.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. This had to be treated quickly to be most effective, and she needed at least one for each of the students and a double dose for Miss Granger. A second dose for everyone would be better, to be on the safe side, as well as having a few more on hand. That added up to sixteen. She could use the extra help, but said, "From what I've heard, you haven't been attending very many of your potions classes, Mr. Potter. And the ones you have been attending, you didn't do much brewing."

"Oh, I was learning on my own, you see. The Tournament doesn't use many of the fourth-year potions, so I've been practicing a lot. I've actually completed all the fourth-year potions already, and I'm working my way through the OWL potions," Harry pleaded his case.

"I'll let you chop and peel some of the ingredients, but I'll be the one doing the brewing, Mr. Potter. You must follow my directions exactly." She gave him the simplest jobs that most second-years would be able to do, just to be safe. It certainly had been a while since there was a student who had volunteered to brew potions for her. Mr. Potter's mother was one of the last, and ever since Severus had started, she hadn't seen any student willingly approach a cauldron. "It's about time you did some work inside the hospital wing instead of just lying around all the time, isn't it?" she joked.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." Harry gladly placed his loose outer robes on the chair and washed his hands. "How do we begin?"

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- learning via messing around is fun.

- revisions done. ron's accusation felt a little bit too off, hopefully it works a bit better this time. also, i forgot to mention before that the chamber of secrets has no natural lighting... draco won't know anything about the beacon. i'm sure he hasn't taken ancient runes, either.


	30. Finding a Night

**Author's Notes:**

- fanfiction is a non-profit source of fun

- whoop, looking busy for the next weekend. Updates may be delayed.

* * *

**Chapter 30: Finding a Night**

Harry woke up in the hospital wing, being too tired to walk back up to his bed the previous night. Madame Pomfrey greeted him as she walked by. "Ah, you're awake, Mr. Potter. I've already administered the potion to everyone, they should be ready to leave by breakfast, except for Miss Granger. She'll need a bit longer, but I think she'll be fine by dinnertime."

_Does she ever sleep? _Harry regarded the witch incredulously. He got up and immediately went to Hermione's bedside, but she was still asleep. A few others were awake, though.

"Hey, Harry. Madam Pomfrey said you helped her brew the Lungscrub potion. I feel a lot better now... though the potion itself was horrible. Didn't think you'd volunteer, of all people." Neville was sitting up on his bed, wide awake. It was a far cry from the coughing and wincing boy just last night. The potion had apparently done the trick.

"Well, I didn't brew the potion, I just prepared some of the ingredients. And potions are a lot more fun when Snape isn't around," Harry admitted.

"Tut, tut, Mr. Potter, my patients need rest now, and so do you. I suggest you go rest in your own bed for now," Madam Pomfrey interrupted. She shooed him out, leaving Harry with nothing to do but head back up to Gryffindor Tower as a few of the other early risers were beginning to make their way down for breakfast. With a quick detour to the Great Hall to grab a slice of buttered toast, he made his way back to his dorm and flopped down on his bed.

* * *

Harry woke up again, and by this time classes had already started. No matter, though, as he hadn't planned on attending any today, anyways. His first stop was, once again, the Hospital Wing.

"Back so soon, Mr. Potter? I'm afraid Miss Granger won't be seeing you tonight. I'm keeping her under Dreamless Sleep that should last until mid-afternoon, and then I'll determine if she's fit to be released," Madam Pomfrey explained as he looked hopefully at his girlfriend. She _was_ looking a lot better. Her breaths smooth and regular, unlike the previous night. Harry was glad to see her sleeping so peacefully. He resisted the urge to climb into bed and cuddle next to her, and settled for stroking her cheek instead.

"Get well soon, Hermione. I've got a big day planned for you," he whispered to her. To Madam Pomfrey, he asked her, "Just in case I'm not here when she wakes up, could you pass along a message for me?"

"What would you like me to tell her?"

"Just tell her that she should have her dress on at dinnertime."

"I'll relay the message, Mr. Potter. And good luck with the tournament."

"Thanks, ma'am." With that, Harry left the Hospital wing and once again took the secret passage to Hogsmeade.

He was surprised to see some students in the streets in the middle of the day. None of them were Hogwarts students, though. There were several couples dressed in Beauxbatons' signature blue robes. It was a little more challenging than yesterday navigating his way through the streets under his invisibility cloak, but he still managed to do it with ease. Taking the cloak off just outside the jewellers' again, he stepped inside.

"'Arry? Is zat you?"

_Damn. I didn't think he'd have customers today, _Harry kicked himself mentally. _Well, I guess it doesn't matter too much for a Beauxbatons student to know I snuck off the grounds._ He straightened up and greeted his French competition. "Hello, Fleur. What brings you here today?"

"Madame Maxime 'as allowed ze students ze day off today, seeing as she 'erself wanted an excuse to take an 'oliday."

That certainly explained why they were all in Hogsmeade today, but... "Yes, but why are you in this shop in particular?"

"I need anozzer bracelet, zat is all," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Another? Wait, how many do you have?" Hermione certainly didn't have that much jewellery... but then again, Harry had to admit Hermione wasn't your average girl. Neither was Fleur, for that matter.

"I brought five wiz me, but I would like to 'ave a different one for my dinner wiz Cedric tonight. Somezing ze photographers 'ave not published over and over already. And yourself, why are you 'ere? I zought 'ogwarts students are only allowed on certain weekends?"

Harry wondered about spending money like that... he just couldn't see the logic, even though he was filthy rich. "Uh... don't tell anyone I'm here, because I'm not supposed to be. I'm just picking up a pair of matching lockets that I'm going to give to Hermione tonight."

"And they're right here," Mr. MacCullan interrupted. He presented Harry with a large velvet box. Opening it up, two golden lockets lay inside, side by side. Opening up the ruby one, he smiled as he watched the photo of himself and Hermione kiss on New Year's Eve.

"Thanks. This is exactly what I wanted," Harry told the jeweller.

"Oh, zat is so adorable!" Harry only then noticed Fleur looking over his shoulder at the locket.

"Hey, that's private!" Harry quickly closed the locket and the box. "Adorable" wasn't exactly the word he was hoping for. Sweet, romantic, thoughtful... but Fleur made it sound like he'd just bought Hermione a teddy bear. Then again, remembering her bedroom, she might have appreciated a stuffed animal more than jewellery.

Fleur just laughed. "I'm sure she will appreciate it, 'arry. Would you wait for me while I choose somezing for myself?"

"Sure. Is there something you want me to do?"

"Non, it will be more entertaining wiz an audience, zat's all." Fleur had her mischievous smile on again. What was she up to? Harry had the jeweller wrap up the box with while Fleur continued to try on the bracelets. It only took a few more minutes of looking around the shop before Fleur found what she wanted. The two of them left the building as Fleur pulled Harry towards Madam Puddifoot's. Harry, of course, was reluctant to go in with her.

"Uh, Fleur... that's not exactly my kind of shop... and... and what would Cedric think?" Harry asked as he paused a few steps away from the entrance. _Did she mention wanting an audience earlier?_ he recalled in horror.

"Zis is not what you believe, 'arry," she laughed quietly, seeing Harry's expression. "Tell me, can you perform ze disillusionment charm?"

"Uh, yeah. I've been practicing." He decided not to tell Fleur that he could simply throw on his cloak. If this wasn't serious, he may as well get a little more practice with the charm.

"And you can still resist my allure?"

"Never been a problem." Harry wondered what she could be planning.

"Good, zis shall be quite entertaining for you." She said, disillusioning herself. Harry took the cue and cast the charm on himself. "Follow me inside," she whispered.

The interior of Madam Puddifoot's was excruciatingly saccharine. Pink and red hearts decorated everything. The tablecloths were pink. The chair cushions were red. The curtains were fuchsia. The teacups were decorated with little hearts. Everything bad that Harry had heard about this shop seemed to have multiplied for Valentine's. He immediately swore that he would never take Hermione here. Beauxbatons students - no, couples - filled the seats. One couple in particular, however, was impossible to miss. Sitting right in the middle of the room was Madame Maxime herself, and directly across from her was Hagrid. Even more surprising was that they seemed to be enjoying each others' company. Hagrid was a mumbling mess, and the headmistress seemed to find that charming. Looking back, he realized he'd nearly lost track of Fleur, but saw a slight shimmer in one of the secluded corners of the cafe. Harry quickly crawled over.

"Fleur! Is that you? What are we doing here?" he whispered.

"Just watch. Are you ready?" Fleur asked.

"For what?" Harry got his answer immediately when he felt Fleur's allure quickly build up to full force. Thankfully, he had his occlumency shields on at a low level all the time, which stopped him from doing anything stupid. The other males in the cafe, however, weren't so lucky.

The chatter and conversations suddenly stopped as all the boys' heads turned roughly in the direction of Fleur. A few even got out of their seats and wandered closer. They couldn't see her under the disillusionment, so in their partially dreamlike state, their eyes drifted in confusion to the first female they saw. For some of them, they were lucky enough to look at their own dates, causing them to immediately do something stupid. Some leapt over the tables, throwing themselves at the girl across from them. Others tripped getting out of their own seats trying to grab their girlfriends' hands. Harry was sure he heard a few of them ask, "Je t'aime, veux-tu m'épouser?"

Even that didn't last long. When the waitress walked into view, several of the boys tripped over each other scrambling towards her. She ended up dropping her tray in surprise, whereupon the boys immediately competed with each other to see who could do the best job of cleaning up the mess. One girl who was abandoned by her date shouted at him, which unfortunately caught the attention of several other boys. As soon as they laid eyes on her, they ran right across the cafe, tripping over each other. The process seemed to repeat itself several times over, as their attention spans had become shorter than a niffler's.

Eventually, however, their eyes fell to the most visible woman in the room- their headmistress. Harry struggled to stay silent as four or five boys scrambled out of their seats and practically began to proposition the half-giantess. Hagrid, it seemed, wasn't affected by the allure as badly as the others. He still went from being tense and nervous to dopey and lovestruck. He easily swept aside the other boys with his massive hands as he knelt down in front of her. "Olympe... Ah... I jus' know yer the one fer me... This... this is true love, innit?"

Madame Maxime was amused by the spectacle, but she figured out what was going on. "No, 'agrid, this is not true love. This is what 'appens when a little Veela tries to play cupid... Fleur! Ça suffit! Sortir maintenant!"

"Now we go," Fleur whispered as she quickly rushed out the door, avoiding the girls that were searching for her. Harry quickly followed. They didn't stop until they were across the street.

"What was that, Fleur?" Harry couldn't stop laughing. Not that he had anything against half-giants, but what he just saw did feel a little ridiculous.

Fleur burst out in riotous laughter. This was a side of her Harry had never expected. "So, 'arry, what did you zink of ze show?"

"I had no idea you could do that with your allure. Why didn't you bring Cedric along today? This isn't the first time you've done it, is it?"

"Well, Cedric still cannot stand up to my allure as well as you, and also, 'e insists on attending all 'is classes zis year." She let out her disappointment with a huff, but smiled again just as quickly. "To answer your second question... it is ze first time I've 'ad the opportunity to use it wiz Madame Maxime," she answered, "But non, I first learned zis trick a few years ago, before I could fully control my allure."

"Really? It sounds like there's quite a story behind it..."

"Non, it was quite simple, really. My allure 'ad just flared up and I couldn't turn it off, so I was running away from ze boys. Luckily, zat was ze same day we we brewed invisibility potions, so I grabbed a bottle from ze classroom and dumped it all over myself. When ze boys caught up, zeir attentions immediately turned to Madame Bottelier when zey saw her."

"Is that why you're so good at disillusionment?"

"Yes, and I also found out it was quite entertaining when I finally learned to control both my allure and my invisibility, so I kept practicing. Valentine's and Christmas are my favourite times. And ze first and last days of school, as well. It 'elps when zey are already emotional."

Harry couldn't believe Fleur had just admitted to being a prankster. Given how she had reacted to Fred and George's powder, he thought she was too prim and proper for that. But then again, it could just have been because it got her really dirty, like Harry had done with the portable swamp. He decided it would be better not to bring that incident up. Instead, he joked, "You could be a professional matchmaker with that talent."

"A matchmaker? Never! I 'ave far too many boys trying to win me over, even after I am clearly wiz Cedric. I would end up stealing 'alf of my clients' boys by accident. Non, I would much rather be a cursebreaker."

"A cursebreaker? It's... uh... rather dirty work, isn't it?" Harry was surprised again, as Fleur looked more like a supermodel who wouldn't want to get her nails chipped.

"Yes, but I 'ave begun to see ze fun in getting dirty," Fleur replied, giving Harry a wicked look. "I believe you taught me zat only a few days ago."

"I... uh... you're welcome?" Harry was wondering how much Fleur enjoyed teasing him. As he remembered it, Fleur looked ready to kill him for getting her covered in swamp muck, not grateful. "I don't even know what I want to do with my life... what made you want to become a cursebreaker anyways?"

"You are only fourteen, 'arry. Of course you don't know what you want to do wiz your life yet. I only figured it out when my family vacationed in Mexico last summer. Zeir tombs are as incredible as ze ones in Egypt. Even zen, I zought I would like to be a curator of ancient artefacts, until I was chosen to compete in ze tournament. I did not know I would enjoy ze action and adrenaline so much. A career like zat would let me combine my old love of ancient treasure wiz my newfound love of adrenaline. It would force people to see my achievements instead of just my beauty."

"Oh... um... thanks for explaining that to me," Harry said. He was a bit relieved to hear that Fleur had trouble figuring out her own life as well. He couldn't quite take the same path, though, as he was already too well known for his "achievements," and people expected even more of him. "Hermione's practically decided already that she wants to revolutionize the British wizarding world. Me, I just want to get away from all this fame, but I can't seem to avoid it."

"Your girlfriend is too smart for 'er own good. She should explore some more before she settles on something. You should do some travelling, and take 'er along. I can tell you zat you are very famous in ze British Isles, but not so much elsewhere. Perhaps you will find your calling when you see more of ze world. If you are ever in France, come contact ze Delacour family. I'm sure my father and my sister would be 'appy to get to know you as well."

"That's a really good idea, Fleur! Thanks!" The thought of leaving Britain never occurred to him. In fact, the Dursleys hadn't even taken him to see the ocean. He did take note of her invitation to meet her family... what did that mean? Was _she_ interested in Harry, or was her _family_ interested in him?

After stopping by the florist for a dozen roses, the rest of the walk back up to Hogwarts was quite cheerful and friendly as Fleur tried to prod more information about Hermione out of Harry. Seeing that he wasn't going to babble about any private, gossip-worthy news, they instead talked about each others' performance in the tournament. Harry was quite impressed with Fleur's grace under pressure; the only time she had buckled was apparently when she fell into Harry's swamp. Fleur, on the other hand, was equally impressed with Harry's ability to keep up with the competition despite his young age. He brushed it off as luck, since he wasn't going to reveal his secret that easily. When they finally arrived at the gates, Harry threw his invisibility cloak over himself again after they parted ways. He was hoping he'd finally see Hermione awake.

* * *

"Hey, Harry!" Hermione was sitting up on her bed, reading her arithmancy textbook. The other Gryffindors had already checked out, and she was now the only one left. "Where were you all day?"

"Hermione!" Harry rushed up to her and gave her a hug. "I was so worried about you that I barely slept last night."

"Madam Pomfrey told me how you helped her brew the potion and wouldn't sleep until she gave me the first dose. You're so sweet, Harry," she said, holding his hands. "Except you weren't here when I woke. I expected better of you, Mr. Potter," she chided him jokingly.

"Hey, I was picking up a present for you. Here," he said, handing her the gift. "Don't open it until tonight, though."

"So our date for tonight's still on? Madam Pomfrey said I should be out of here in a few more hours... and I'll probably take another hour or so to get ready... so how's seven o'clock?"

"Sounds great! Meet me in the Room of Requirement, alright? I hope you like fish." With long, reuniting kiss, Harry left again to get ready for the evening.

Fish was something he hadn't had the opportunity to cook before, despite the copious amount of work he had done in the Dursleys' kitchen. They loved their fatty pork, beef, bacon, steaks, and burgers, but the closest thing to healthy meat they'd had was chicken and turkey. The only time they ate fish at all was when it was deep fried from a fish and chip stand. He knew that Hermione wouldn't enjoy that as much, and he also knew that fresh fish would taste better- and how much fresher could it possibly get than straight from the water? He grabbed the remainder of his Gillyweed and dove into the Black Lake. With a simple disillusionment, a stunner, and a piercing hex, he managed to catch himself one large enough to feed both of them after only a few minutes. It certainly beat sitting around for an hour with a hook and lure. The gillyweed, which was a month old already, was somewhat stale and its effects ended only ten minutes later, so Harry didn't have to wait long before climbing back out.

With the main course in hand, he needed to prepare it. Up in the Room of Requirement, it had provided him everything he needed for the evening to come. There was a dining table for two, already set, next to a dance floor that opened up to a balcony, giving a spectacular view outside. Off to the side was the kitchen, containing all the cutlery he needed. It even threw in a few cookbooks as well. Harry already had something in mind, but he flipped through the books to find a better recipe as he gutted and de-scaled the fish. Even though it was far more messy and bloody than anything he'd worked with before (the Dursleys bought their meat pre-cut from the deli or, sometimes, frozen) he was finding it much more enjoyable. Some of it came from the knowledge that he'd be enjoying the fruits of his labours himself, and partly because it was so much easier to do when the room had provided him with every tool he needed, in perfect condition. The Dursleys had forced him to work with only three dull knives: the chef's knife, the "other knife," and the bread knife.

Unfortunately, while the room provided all the tools, it couldn't provide him with the food. He needed to get the other ingredients from the Hogwarts kitchens... which meant he had to get it from the house-elves. Tentatively, he called out, "Dobby!" The little house-elf popped up beside him.

"Hello Master Harry sir! You is needing-" Dobby paused as he found himself in another kitchen. He glanced at the fish. "You is needing fish cooked, Master Harry?" Before Harry could answer, Dobby popped away, bringing back plenty of herbs, spices, vegetables, and everything else needed to complete a dinner with the fish. Dobby was just about to de-bone and filet the fish when Harry yelled, "Dobby, stop!"

Dobby froze, and so did the knife hanging mid-air. "Dobby... I just needed the ingredients. I want to cook this myself."

Dobby's eyes began to water. "Is Dobby's cooking not good enough for Master Harry sir? Oh, Dobby has failed master when he cannot even cook! Bad, Dobby! Dobby is useless house-elf!" Harry saw a cleaver begin to levitate and move towards the little elf.

"Dobby, stop! I forbid you from harming yourself! It's just really, really important to me that I cook this meal myself. You can cook breakfast for me tomorrow morning then, how about that?" Dobby nodded solemnly. The knives all flew back to their proper places.

Harry then told Dobby, "I still need a few more ingredients. Some broccoli, carrots, cucumbers, a lime, potatoes, grape tomatoes, feta cheese... um..." He went back to the cookbooks and listed the rest of the ingredients he needed. Dobby happily popped back and forth to the kitchen to provide Harry what he needed.

He nearly lost track of time whipping together the dinner, even though it was a simple, three-course meal. He had plenty of fun making his own sauces instead of squirting pre-made stuff from a bottle and ended up experimenting many times to get the flavour right for both the salad and the main course. Seeing that he had half an hour until dinner started, he put the fish in the steamer oven and prepared the dessert as well, then rushed out to the dorm.

* * *

After getting changed into his dress robes, grabbing the bouquet of flowers, and rushing back to the room, the fish was done. _Perfect timing,_ he congratulated himself. Just as he added the garnishes and put it back in the oven to keep it warm, he heard the door open. _Even perfecter timing!_ He threw off the apron just as Hermione walked in.

She was even more stunning than on New Year's Eve. This time, she was actually able to take her time getting ready instead of having to undo Lavender and Parvati's work. "So, Harry, what do you have in store for me today? And can I open this box yet?"

"After dinner," Harry said, pulling out a chair for her. After she had settled in, he went into the kitchen and pulled out two plates of salad.

"This is great, Harry! It's even better than the things you cooked up at home... did you get Dobby to help you with this?" she asked as she speared a grape tomato with her fork.

"He certainly tried, but I managed to talk him down to just getting me the ingredients," Harry said proudly.

"You know, with a little more training, you could become a professional chef, Harry." She was savouring the sauce that Harry had mixed together.

"You think so? And here I thought I'd be stuck hunting dark lords for the rest of my life," he said, half-jokingly.

"Harry... you know you'll be able to..." Hermione put her fork back down, but was curious why Harry was saying it so nonchalantly.

"I know, I know... but I think I'll just take things one at a time for now. I don't think I'll be able to figure out what I really want out of life while he's at my back."

"So you don't have any plans for anything when Voldemort's gone? That just seems so... reckless. Doesn't it make you feel uneasy?"

"Maybe it does to you, Hermione, but I'd rather just put it off my mind until it comes up. It helps me ease the tension, focusing on only one goal. You, on the other hand, can't start a class without the entire textbook finished before September first and three alternative textbooks on the subject from the library..." he teased.

"I just like being prepared!" Hermione defended herself.

"I know, I know... that's what I like about you. But I figure I'm better at making things up as I go, and that's why I need your help." Trying to steer the conversation to a more cheerful topic, he said, "I hope you like fish..." as he cleared took their plates back to the kitchen, returning with the main course.

"Seriously, Harry, forget about saving the world. Be a chef instead," Hermione said in awe as he carried the plates out. "Mmmm... it's so moist! And succulent!" she declared as she dug in. "How did you make this?"

"The room kind of helped," Harry said. "It gave me a steam oven instead of a regular oven, so I used it. Turns out it's a lot better this way."

"I really have to wonder sometimes if this room... or the castle... is sentient or not. I mean, if it gave you what you really needed instead of what you asked for, doesn't that mean it can think for itself? I wonder if we can find a way to communicate with it..."

_Whoops, set her off on another mystery to solve, _he thought. _But that's my Hermione. _The rest of the evening was far more light-hearted as they pondered what the room could or couldn't do, as well as what Harry could or couldn't cook, given all the ingredients in the world. Harry turned that around on Hermione, asking her what kind of books she would or wouldn't read, given a library of everything ever recorded. The back and forth continued until it was time for dessert, where Harry surprised Hermione again with crème brulée.

Afterwards, Harry asked Hermione to open the gift he'd given her. Upon seeing the matching lockets, Hermione gasped out, "Oh! How cute!"

_Damn, there's that word again,_ he winced mentally as he reached across the table and flicked one of them open. "Do you like the picture?" he asked. He held his breath as he watched Hermione's eyes flicker to the photo, who watched the full scene play out in front of her before replying.

"It's perfect! This is exactly what I want to remember from that night, Harry... not all the fuss that came afterwards."

"Well, that's why I asked you to wear your dress today. This time, we can do all the dancing we want without anything interrupting us," he said, getting up. As he did, soft music filled the room.

Hermione took his hand and they walked over to the dance floor. "Should we begin where we left off?"

"Sounds good to me." They began with a simple box step, moving back and forth until they were completely in sync. They progressed to travelling back and forth, moving across the entire room. With nobody else to bump into or watch them, they went faster and faster until they were careening into the walls, laughing all the way.

"I think our dancing's improved," Harry commented as they sat on the dance floor.

"If you call falling down left and right better, then yes," Hermione laughed.

"Hey, at least we fell down when we wanted to!"

"Sure, make your excuses."

"Alright, do you want something to drink? I have some Butterbeer in the kitchen as well," Harry said, getting to his feet again.

"Sounds great... that dancing really got me thirsty," Hermione said, fanning herself off with her hand. Harry returned with two opened bottles, handing one of them to her.

"Here's to a wonderful evening with the most perfect witch in the school," Harry said, raising his bottle.

"And here's to the perfect date with the greatest wizard a witch could ask for," Hermione answered, raising her bottle as well. They clinked them together and, just before taking a sip each, she added, "Don't get another vision this time."

"Ha ha. Don't get dragged off by aurors this time," Harry said, taking a sip. They waited silently for a few seconds after that. "Were you actually waiting for me to flop down to the floor?" he asked.

"Um... yes?" she said sheepishly. "Look, Voldemort just seems to have a knack for picking the worst days for you to give you visions. I mean, one on your birthday, and the next one at the ball..."

"Yeah, me too," Harry admitted. "I think Fate just likes to mess with me or something. I think I've earned today, to be honest."

"You certainly did," Hermione answered him. "Let's just... enjoy tonight, shall we?"

"Let's." The two of them finally wandered out to the balcony the room had provided. It was a perfectly clear night as the stars shone down, reflected on the black lake. The cool night air was refreshing, though Harry did have to cast a silent warming charm on both of them. A gentle breeze made the treetops rustle and gentle ripples along the surface of the lake. The light scents of the grass and the forest mixed with the light perfume that Hermione was wearing that night. This kind of tranquility was something Harry had never experienced before at Hogwarts. When he'd been awake at night, it was either for Astronomy class or he was sneaking around with his heart thumping. This time, he was enjoying the serenity of the night. This is what he wanted. Peace. Not just for himself, but for everyone. Not just getting rid of big bullies like Voldemort, but even the little bullies like Dudley and Malfoy. Maybe it was impossible, but at least it would keep him busy. For now, though, he just wanted to enjoy the night for all it provided.

"Hermione?" he whispered into her ear from behind.

"Mmmm?" Hermione had her eyes closed and was enjoying the night as much as Harry, leaning back into his shoulder.

"May I kiss you?"

"We've been dating for months, Harry... You don't need permission anymore." She smiled as she turned her head, still resting it against his shoulder.

"Just wanted you to be ready for this," he said, moistening his lips. He leaned into her, cradling her neck with his hands as they both pulled their bodies into each other. As they tasted each other's lips, smelled each other's aroma, heard each other's breath, and felt each other's heartbeat, neither of them wanted their embrace to end.

* * *

The joy of the previous night lasted well into their first class the next day, which was Ancient Runes. "Thank goodness Draco isn't taking this class... we won't have to see him again until Charms this afternoon," Hermione commented as they walked together. "At least he didn't come by to say something stupid this morning."

Harry suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. "Whoops."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- this chapter sort of feels like filler, but there were just a few scenes I wanted to try out. Namely the Fleur thingy. I decided to mush them together into this chapter.

- personally I like fish steamed or raw (as in sashimi). baked or grilled just dries it out like an overcooked steak.

- creme brulee is one of the greatest desserts ever invented.


	31. Lies, Deceit, and Manipulation

**Author's Notes:**

- Harry Potter gives JK Rowling lots of lucky money. He does not give me any.

- Happy Chinese/Lunar new year everyone! It also got me thinking, why do wizards follow the Gregorian calendar instead of the lunar calendar? It seems the moon affects a lot of things in magic (like werewolves and brewing veritaserum). Would that mean that Trelawney's prophecy might be referencing a completely different dark lord and a different child? hm...

* * *

**Chapter 31: Lies, Deceit, and Manipulation**

It was only after classes that they managed to steal away from the crowd and sneak themselves down to the Chamber of Secrets. Luckily, they had a free period so they managed to go while most of the other students were still in a class. As they approached the door to the chamber itself, Harry turned to her and said, "Okay, Hermione... please don't get mad at me for what I'm about to show you. I... uh... wasn't thinking too clearly at the time."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by 'not thinking clearly?' When was this?"

"You were in the hospital wing and you weren't responding to the usual treatment. I kind of panicked."

"So what are you showing me, Harry? Don't tell me you..." Hermione's eyes widened as she figured it out.

_~Open,~_ Harry hissed to the door. "You'll see," he said as he stepped inside. They walked into the familiarly dark and empty chamber.

"What am I supposed to be seeing again? I thought you were implying that you kidnapped Draco or something of that ridiculous nature," Hermione said. The tension had yet to leave her voice, because she wasn't quite sure if she should be feeling relieved yet.

"Um... I did kidnap him," Harry admitted.

"WHAT?" Hermione's yell echoed through the chamber.

Harry threw up his hands in surrender. "Like I said, I wasn't thinking very clearly! And I did manage to find out something useful! If it hadn't been for me, who knows whether or not all of you would have recovered or not?"

Hermione fumed silently for a few minutes, contemplating what he just told her. _Okay. He did it for me. He did it for everyone else who got stuck in the hospital wing. He could have at least slowed down and thought about it for a while. Ugh! Now he's dragged me into this whole mess. But then again, I might not be here if it weren't for him... _ Finally, she spoke. "...Fine. But the ends don't justify the means, you know that!"

"Alright, just help me look for that little bugger." Harry lit up his wand with a slightly brighter lighting charm as he began to search the chamber.

"You make it sound like he's a little lost puppy or something." Hermione smirked. She moved over and began her search along the walls.

"I'd prefer a little snake, but yeah, thinking of him as an animal kind of helps."

"Or a ferret," Hermione suggested.

"Ferret? I've been wanting to call him that too, but I don't know why," Harry answered. They realized that the chamber itself had many nooks and crannies that they never bothered finding before. Several of these were actually quite large, enough for them to stand up inside and had a fairly steep passageway leading up. They ruled them out as possible escape routes that Draco had taken, being far too slippery to climb. That narrowed it down to two of the lower passages, on opposite sides of the chamber. They saved the tunnel exploration for last, since neither thought it was a good idea to wander into a dark tunnel alone.

"Now that I think about it, it should have been obvious there would be plenty of tunnels leading out of the chamber," Hermione said as they began their walk down one of the two tunnels.

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked.

"Well, you said you heard the voices in the walls, right?"

"Yeah, it was the basilisk hissing along as it moved through the pipes..." Harry smacked his head. "Of course! There has to be more ways out of the chamber than just Myrtle's bathroom!"

"Obviously, a giant basilisk like that would be pretty hard to miss going through the halls," Hermione pointed out. "But the attacks happened all over the school... Justin was petrified on the fifth floor, I was down near the library, and Colin was definitely not near the girls' bathroom. There have to be other exits."

"Like the one we found underwater during our preparations for the Trial of Water..." Harry recalled.

"I think we might actually be walking towards that one."

The tunnel they were walking down had a very slight downward grade to it, and it was getting slimier as they progressed. Both of them were constantly casting _Scourgify_ in front of them so they wouldn't slip. Eventually it ended in a deep pool of dirty water, and the light from their wands couldn't penetrate very deep. Not willing to soak themselves for the sake of curiosity, they just hoped that Draco hadn't walked down this path and drowned.

They returned to the chamber and started exploring the second tunnel. The one had a slight uphill grade to it. It was definitely longer than the other. Although it was far less slimy than the first one and they could walk much faster, they could tell they weren't getting to the end of the tunnel any time soon.

"I've been thinking about the Chamber itself for a bit," Harry said, trying to pass the time with more conversation.

"Oh? What about it?"

"Why would a sneaky and devious wizard like Salazar Slytherin make a secret, hidden chamber underneath the school and make it so... uninviting?"

"It _was_ supposed to be a secret," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"But he _did_ make it for his heir to find. You'd think he wouldn't make them slide down a mucky old tube to get their inheritance. There aren't even stairs to get down here, for crying out loud. You'd think he would at least put a desk, or a book, or _something_ more useful for his own heir."

"Maybe Voldemort took them all when he came down here the first time?" Hermione thought aloud, but she did see his point.

"The books, yeah, but I don't think he'd steal the bookshelves too."

"So you're saying the Chamber of Secrets wasn't made for his heir to find?" Hermione doubted his theory slightly, but mostly because it was the opposite of everything the books had suggested. Many had said the chamber existed and would be opened for the heir of Slytherin, while others suggested that it didn't exist at all. None suggested that it DID exist but not for the heir.

"Maybe for him to find, but not for him to use," Harry said. "I think it was made just for the basilisk. Do you know what the password is for the secret entrances are?"

"You just told me you had to open it in parseltongue... you never explained how you figured out the actual password. Was it hard?" Hermione was surprised. Whenever Harry spoke in parseltongue, it still sounded amazingly complex and she was sure he was speaking full sentences.

"No, I just say 'open' and it opens. That's really all there is to it." Harry shrugged and gave her a dumb grin. Hermione's mouth was left hanging at the simplicity of it.

"That's IT? I expected better of a founder of Hogwarts... especially the one who was known for cunning!"

"Like I said, it was made for the basilisk. It makes sense this way... I wouldn't expect a snake to have a very good memory, so he just kept the passwords simple so it could come and go when it needed to. By the way, the password for the underwater exit is just 'open,' too."

Their conversation finally ended when they found what they were looking for. There was another large door decorated with snakes, and lying at the base of it was one very weak Draco Malfoy. Hermione began searching him immediately, starting with his sleeves.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked. "Shouldn't we revive him?"

"I'm looking for his wand. I don't want him to wake up and hit us with something. Constant vigilance and all that," she explained.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I took his wand away from him when I left him down here," Harry said, while pulling out Draco's wand from his pocket.

"Why didn't you mention it earlier? Okay, you watch him, I'll revive him," Hermione said. Before casting _enervate,_ she petrified and bound his body, holding him in a sitting position. "Ready? Three, two, one... _Enervate!"_

Draco's eyes fluttered weakly. He squinted under the light of Harry and Hermione's wands, and quickly realized he couldn't even lift his arm to shield his eyes. Hermione conjured up a cup of water and held it up to Draco's lips. "Here, Malfoy. Drink."

Draco took a sip of water only to spit it back out in Hermione's face. "I don't need your help, you filthy mudbl-"

He was interrupted by a jet of water from Harry's wand blasting straight into his face. Some of it splashed on to Hermione's robes. "Sorry about that, Hermione," Harry apologized as he cast a drying charm on her. "Alright, Malfoy, that's the only drink of water you'll be getting."

"I'm going to kill you, Potter," Draco tried to snarl at him, but his voice came out weak and hoarse. Harry couldn't figure out whether he was delirious, suicidal, or just plain stupid.

"How are you going to manage that?" Harry asked with a mixture of worry and amusement.

"You're dead, Potter. You'd better let me go, because my father will hunt you down..." he ranted as he struggled against the petrification spell. Harry cast a stunner at Malfoy to get him to quiet down.

"You could have just silenced him," Hermione criticized.

"Stunning's more satisfying. Let's try this again. _Enervate._" Draco awoke once again, more alert this time. "You almost killed me, Potter. When I'm through with you, you'll know what it's like to starve for days..."

"Oh, shut up for Merlin's sake. It's only been a day and a half and I've starved for a lot longer than that. Maybe you should try it, you little pansy," Harry said. He never knew he could look upon his mistreatment at the Dursleys' with humour. Draco was about to say something when he was stunned by Hermione.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry asked.

"You were losing your temper. We need to make Draco cooperative, not give him your life story," Hermione said.

"Fine, fine. Let's try it one more time," Harry suggested after taking a few calming breaths.

Another reviving charm later, Hermione began by immediately silencing Draco. "Now listen here, Malfoy. You're stuck down here, as you already figured out. You tell anybody about this, you're in here again for the rest of your life, do you understand?"

Draco spat at Hermione in response and sneered. Harry stunned him one more time and conjured a handkerchief for Hermione.

"Okay... how do we deal with this?" Harry asked.

"We're NOT leaving him down here," Hermione said, seeing the looks Harry was giving Draco.

"I wasn't suggesting that!" Harry responded, although he was certainly thinking it. "But as soon as he's out of here, he'll tell everyone, including his father, that I almost killed him. That's pretty much a one-way ticket to Azkaban for us, and he knows it."

Hermione sighed. She had hoped it wouldn't come to this. "It looks like we'll have to obliviate him." They had learned the spell incantation, wand movements, and the mental framework needed to cast the spell out of the auror's handbook that Moody had given them. It was part of the auror's duty to obliviate muggles individually if there were three or fewer witnesses to magic. Unfortunately, neither of them had actually cast the spell on a person for practice.

"I guess Malfoy's as good a guinea pig as any," Harry said, raising his wand.

"Wait, Harry. We can't just erase his memory," Hermione said. "He's been missing for a full day and a half. If someone finds a big blank in his memory then we might as well turn ourselves in. We need to replace his memory with something."

"Well, where else could he have disappeared to for a day and a half without anybody finding him? We'll have to get him out of the castle," Harry pointed out.

"Forbidden Forest?" Hermione suggested. "We need a reason why he'd go in there at all."

"Um... how about this. He's been wanting to get revenge on me for a while now, so he followed me into the Forbidden Forest to try to ambush me after you were in the Hospital Wing. We fought, he got disoriented and ran deeper into the forest instead of coming back out," Harry suggested.

"And why would you be going into the forest?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, I'll make something up. Draco doesn't have to know. Uh... Tournament training. I wanted to practice fighting wild animals."

"Alright, that works well enough. We've been pretty far into the forest and I can modify the memory of one of our practice battles to stick into his head... but that doesn't explain why he's been gone for so long... and without his wand. He couldn't even conjure water for himself to drink."

"Attacked by wild animals," Harry suggested. He might as well keep going with that excuse.

"What kind of animal, though? I haven't fought any animals before, and it's hard to create a memory from scratch. Should we use Buckbeak's attack on him as a sample? One slash isn't much to work with, though."

Harry thought for a while. He recalled one long, scary chase from monsters that infested the Forest. Modifying the memory so that Malfoy dropped his wand in the escape wouldn't be too difficult. "Acromantulas. I'll use the memory of me and Ron in second year."

With the plan in place, they practiced the wand movements and incantations a few times on rocks to make sure that they had the physical part of the spell correct. Hermione went first, as she was more proficient with the mental arts. She wiped Draco's memory from the afternoon after the potions "accident" and replaced it with one of her own, one of Moody's training sessions where they were practicing tailing a target. Draco would believe he was really doing it, from her point of view. The memory ended when Harry had turned and shot a stunner straight towards her.

"Alright, Harry, I'm done. Remember two weeks ago, tailing and shadowing practice with Moody? That's what I used."

"Up to the stunner?"

"Exactly," Hermione said.

"Even better," Harry told her. "I didn't really know it was you back then; I just heard a rustle. It could have been an animal. This way I can say I just shot a stunner without knowing it was Malfoy. This works with my alibi... I thought I stunned a wild animal and didn't bother checking up on him."

Harry then proceeded to work on his part of the memory. He made Malfoy believe he had reawakened at night, completely disoriented. Wandering around much like they had done in their first year detention, except alone, he stumbled upon an acromantula colony. Skipping over the part where he actually conversed with Aragog, Harry gave him all the memories of fleeing the spiders he could, and added one additional memory of Malfoy dropping and snapping his wand. The acromantulas would have given up the chase but Malfoy kept running until he was exhausted and collapsed.

"Alright, I'm snapping his wand," Harry announced when he was done.

"Again? His father will be furious after this is over..." Hermione surmised. "Even Neville isn't clumsy enough to break two wands in a year. Oh well, let's see what you did."

Hermione probed Draco's mind with legilimency to see how well the memories appeared to be. She did another minor memory charm to fix up small errors, like the sounds of extra voices that shouldn't have been there. Harry did as well, finding other small errors like Hermione brushing her hair away from her face when it was supposed to be Draco's memory. All in all, they ended up doing five memory charms on him in total.

Next came the problem of getting him into the forest itself. The staff would be searching desperately for Draco by now, even if they hadn't bothered to make the announcement to students yet. They decided to open the door they were standing beside and keep walking up the tunnel. Since it was so long, it must have led somewhere far from the castle- and that probably meant the forest.

"It would explain how the basilisk found food to eat. This is kind of exciting! I'm exploring a tunnel that no wizard has seen since Salazar Slytherin built it! I could make my own entry in Hogwarts: A History!" Hermione declared as they continued up the tunnel.

"I'd rather keep this place a secret, wouldn't you, Hermione? At least there won't be any acromantulas where the exit is... I hope. They should be smart enough to stay away from the basilisk's normal hunting grounds," Harry said, thinking of more practical matters.

They finally reached another door with a small snake pattern. Harry opened it, and it turned out to be a gigantic, hollowed log that presumably had been turned into a hidden entrance. It was certainly large enough for the basilisk to slither out. Surrounding them were equally large trees, unlike the ones that grew closer to the castle.

"Magestine Oak trees. I think I know where we are," Hermione said. Pulling out her wand, she said, "Point me." Her wand spun and pointed north. "The castle's this way," she said, pointing East. "It should be a three kilometre hike back."

"You said that spell in English," Harry observed. "How...?"

"I was reading a book on spellcrafting. Most wizards use Mage's Latin for the same reason that scientists use Latin for taxonomy, but it's usually easier to craft new spells in your own language. That was just a simple compass spell. I'll teach it to you when we get back."

They trudged along the thick forest for a while, until they were far from the secret exit. Setting Draco down on the forest floor, they revived him. Both of them kept their wands trained on him this time, wondering how he would react.

Draco shrieked as he woke, screaming, "Spiders! Acromantulas! Help!" Harry and Hermione both breathed a sigh of relief as it was obvious their memory charms had worked properly, although they weren't sure if Draco' cries would attract any predators. They cast a silencing charm on him to be safe.

"Quiet, Malfoy. Do you want those spiders to come after you again? Now follow us if you want to make it out of here," Harry told him. They began marching with Harry in the lead and Hermione behind, keeping Draco at wandpoint.

* * *

The two-hour trip was fairly uneventful. A few wild wolves stalked them for a short while until Harry shot a harmless flare spell at them, scaring them off. The majority of the trip was simply fighting the foliage and making sure they were walking in the right direction. Draco, unfortunately, collapsed when they were nearly there, forcing Hermione to levitate him the rest of the way.

"I can't believe I'm going to be an accessory to kidnapping," Hermione muttered under her breath as she trudged along.

"You didn't kidnap him, I did," Harry told her. "You helped rescue him, that's all."

"Why did you leave him down in the chamber again?" Hermione asked with a hint of bitterness in her voice. It obviously hadn't been easy for her to decide between Harry and the law.

"Err... mostly to make sure you got better and that what he told me was correct. I had to be able to find him again just in case he lied to me."

"Did he tell you how he did it? I always keep an eye on him in Potions... I'm pretty sure he never came near my cauldron or my ingredients."

"Oh, bollocks. I forgot to ask him that, too... how did you get the powders mixed up?"

"I didn't... Snape handed the packets out..." Their eyes went wide at the same time.

"I'm going to kill him!" Harry screamed out loud. "He tried to kill you! I can't believe it!"

"Actually... it's not as bad as it sounds... it would have given me a really bad cough that would have kept me in bed for months if you hadn't found out and treated it so quickly... I wouldn't have died..." Hermione tried to correct his facts, but it obviously wasn't what Harry was looking for.

"That's not the point! Oh, that greasy bastard is _dead_, I swear. I bet he did it just because he finally realized he couldn't bully me this year, so he went after you instead. I don't care if I get expelled... he's not staying in this castle any longer."

"Speak of the devil..." Hermione said as they finally emerged from the forest. They could see the front doors of the castle, where Snape, aurors, and Lucius Malfoy were having a heated discussion. Seeing the two teens approach, Snape strode up to them first, his robes billowing menacingly behind him.

"What have you done to my student, Potter?" Snape snarled.

_What did you do to my girlfriend? _Harry wanted to retort angrily, but he held himself back. With a perfectly straight face and occlumency shields on full, Harry answered, "I saved his life. If you don't like that, I can put him back where I found him."

Lucius stepped in with the next question. "What do you mean when you say you 'saved his life,' Mr. Potter?"

"I mean I found him on the forest floor, passed out, with no wand. We revived him for a while but he couldn't make it back here, so Hermione levitated him the rest of the way."

"And where in the forest did you find him?" Lucius was keeping his voice level, not betraying any emotion. Harry couldn't tell if he was angry or scared that his only son had nearly died.

"Fairly deep inside... Hermione? How far do you think it was? I don't know the distance, but I remember a few landmarks, like the really big oak trees and the acromantula colony..." As expected, all the adults gasped when he mentioned acromantulas.

"They're magestine oaks, Harry. You can see them from any of the castle towers. They kind of stick out above the rest of the forest," Hermione corrected him. By now, the auror had returned with a few other professors who were dining in the Great Hall, including Pomfrey and Moody. The nurse immediately cast a basic medical scanning spell on Draco.

"You expect us to believe you fought off acromantulas to save your nemesis?" Snape snapped at Harry.

"Alright, first off, he's not my nemesis, he's just a fool who can't seem to stop losing his wand," Harry said, watching Lucius out of the corner of his eye. The senior Malfoy's lips tightened at Harry's insult, but he knew his son was too arrogant for his own good. "Secondly, I never said I fought off acromantulas. I just said it wasn't too far from their colony."

"How would you know where their colony is, then?" the auror asked.

"Oh, that's easy. I visited them in second year," Harry said nonchalantly.

"You expect us to believe you just waltzed into an acromantula colony and waltzed back out? Stop wasting our time, Potter," Snape sneered at him.

"Well, it was the same year I killed a basilisk." Harry had to admit his own life was crazier than a carnival. He couldn't make up lies this good if he hadn't actually experienced them.

"And if it was that far, how did you find him? You probably attacked him and left him in the forest yourself," Snape accused Harry.

"Moody's been teaching us tracking skills. Useful for combat and hunting down rogue Death Eaters," Harry drawled out, staring Snape down as he said it. He also noticed Lucius's eyes narrow at him as he said it, but neither would dare push further in Moody's presence.

"Aye, that I have," Moody said. "And he's the best of the lot I've had. Almost as good as the prodigy who's graduating from the academy this year, Nymphie Tonks."

Madam Pomfrey had finished her scans and was taking Draco inside. Lucius followed her, leaving Harry to Snape and the aurors. At least Moody was still there to back him up. "And you were arrogant enough to think you had to rescue him yourself? You should have told a professor first. Your luck is the only thing that saved you from falling into an acromantula web, despite having the intelligence of an insect."

Harry glared at Snape. "And would you like to go in there and feed then giant bats? Chalk it up to habit. The only way things get done around here is when I do it myself. Don't even try to pretend that you would have listened to me for one second, Snape. A rat like you is only good for helping your little rat friends escape," Harry was getting angrier at Snape, remembering the man's second-worst intrusion on his life, forcing Sirius to remain in hiding and costing him his godfather.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Snape snarled.

"You know what I mean. You let a Death Eater escape last year. All you're good for is getting in the way of justice."

Snape nearly drew his wand in anger, but suddenly found Moody's wand at his neck. The auror was completely confused, but seeing the legendary, retired auror point his wand at the professor, he followed suit.

"So, you let your old comrade go, did you? I was wondering how Sirius Black was sneaking into Hogwarts last year... heard they almost had him, but he escaped at the last second, and _you_ were the one who found the empty room." Harry was torn between seeing Snape writhe under Moody's asymmetrical stare and trying to vindicate his godfather. He decided to keep quiet about it- he still didn't have any evidence on hand, after all. He'd have to capture Pettigrew for that.

"Uh... sir... Mr. Snape was acquitted in a trial..." the auror piped up meekly.

"You've a lot to learn, rookie. You were still in Academy when the war ended. The only thing you can trust a Death Eater to do is lie through his teeth. Better keep your eye on the Malfoys while they're here, too." He waved Harry and Hermione away while he continued to grill Snape. The two of them left eagerly, away from more suspicious eyes and towards big plates of food in the Great Hall.

* * *

They found Lucius Malfoy waiting for them just outside the Great Hall after dinner, bodyguards at his side. Harry immediately readied his wand holster but approached the man anyways. Hopefully Malfoy Sr. would be smarter than his son and not risk attacking Harry with so many witnesses around... and Harry didn't think he stood a chance against three adult wizards anyways.

"It appears you have saved my son's life, Mr. Potter," he drawled out slowly. "And he will make a full recovery quickly." He held out a gloved hand. "It appears the house of Malfoy owes Mr. Potter some thanks."

Just as Harry was about to shake the man's hand, Hermione stopped him. "I think the house of Malfoy owes Harry a little more than just thanks," she said with a devilish grin.

Lucius stiffly pulled his hand back as he glared at Hermione disdainfully. "Very well... Miss...?"

"Granger."

"I'm not sure what a... muggle-born... such as yourself knows of ancient magics of blood and family..." Lucius began, clearly trying to avoid the upcoming discussion.

Hermione knew exactly what she was talking about, though. "Harry's the last heir to his house. We went into the forest to save Draco, at the risk of being attacked by acromantulas, centaurs, wolves, trolls, hippogriffs, and who knows what else. Could it be any clearer?"

Lucius was hiding his fury well when he knew he'd been trapped. "Very well, Miss Granger. Let's discuss this somewhere more... private." They led Lucius to an empty classroom, and Lucius motioned for his bodyguards to wait outside. He continued the conversation once he cast a silencing charm. "Mr. Potter, it appears that the Noble House of Malfoy owes the Ancient and Noble House of Potter a life debt," he admitted, bowing ever so slightly. "Would you like to settle this debt quickly? Would ten thousand galleons suffice?"

Harry nearly had to suppress a laugh when he saw how quickly Malfoy was willing to put a price for Draco's life. This would be fantastic material for taunting Draco. On the other hand, he didn't know much about life debts. Dumbledore had mentioned them once, about how Snape had owed the Potters one and he tried to save Harry's life to repay it. It seemed there were multiple ways to repay the debt, with money being the quickest. He smiled at Lucius and said, "Let me discuss this with my advisor," as he pulled Hermione aside.

"Okay, Hermione. Tell me what you know about life debts... more specifically, what we can get out of Lucius for this," Harry grinned.

"Well, the standard payment is about ten thousand, but since Draco is the first heir in line to the Malfoy fortune, then it should be raised to at least fifty thousand... at least, that's the average payment in the past few centuries."

"I'm probably rich enough to buy_ Hogwarts_, Hermione," he said, rolling his eyes. "I don't need more money. What else can we ask of him?"

"Services, like votes on the next few sessions of the Wizengamot... heirlooms or real estate property of about the same value... we DO want to get this deal over with quickly. I'll explain later," Hermione whispered.

Harry thought for a minute. What did he want _right now_? Draco had been starved for a day and half, then marched through the forest for another few hours, was now lying in the infirmary, and had lost another wand. Hopefully that meant he wouldn't try anything dumb to Harry, who he believed had saved his life. Snape, on the other hand, was the accomplice, and he was getting away with it. Dumbledore would look the other way as usual while Snape would continue his petty feud with Harry, with Hermione caught in the crossfire. He walked back to Lucius and smiled.

"I already have enough in my vaults as it is, Mr. Malfoy. I am willing to settle this life debt quickly if you just perform one service for me," he said, this time unable to hold back his grin.

"And what would you have me do?"

"Get rid of Snape. You're on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, correct? See to it that he is sacked. Permanently. I don't want to see his face on Hogwarts grounds again. It shouldn't be too hard if you simply bring up what a comically poor professor he is. I'll consider the debt repaid when I see him hauling his trunks out the front gate."

Lucius considered his offer. Snape was... more specifically, he _used to be_... one of Voldemort's top brewers. He quickly rose through the ranks, although he never made it into the inner circle. He was a helpful ally within Hogwarts, but at the same time, obviously not good enough to keep Draco out of trouble. Perhaps he was pampering Draco too much already, as his son had nearly killed himself in his arrogance. No, keeping his seat on the Board of Governors was already enough to ensure Hogwarts would move in the direction he wanted. As for the cost, a few bribes here and there, perhaps hiring another potions master and Flooing his attorney- all in all, he could have it done for less than two thousand galleons. Five thousand, even if Dumbledore stepped in and tried to stop him. It was an excellent offer.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. I'll see to it that Severus Snape is sacked as soon as possible," Lucius told him. He shook hands with Harry and left immediately. Harry watched him exit the classroom and take his personal guard with him. As soon as they were out of sight, he closed the door again, set up a silencing ward, and burst out laughing.

"Hermione! I can't believe you did that! How did you think of it? Do the Malfoys really owe us a life debt? How do the debts even work?" He was overflowing with questions, and pride, for Hermione.

"Well, what do you want to know first?" Hermione asked, brimming with excitement at the prospect of sharing her knowledge with Harry.

"Alright, does Malfoy actually owe us a life debt? I didn't think that... kidnapping Draco would make him owe us anything."

"He doesn't, actually. It really only matters that he _believes_ he owes you a life debt. And he only owes it to you, not to me. More specifically, he owes it to the House of Potter. That's all moot anyways, since we didn't actually save his life."

"Why? You 'saved' his life too! That's so unfair..."

"That's because you're the heir. Life debts are an ancient blood magic cast by the Ancient and Noble houses a long time ago to protect their bloodlines. Debts can only be owed to the head of house, or the house as a whole. It's created when the head of house, or heir, risks his own life, with no ulterior motives, to save someone else. The end result is more or less like a very faint compulsion charm that lasts until the debt is paid."

"Oh... I thought that it would be more powerful than that, given how eager Malfoy was to get rid of it."

"Draco wouldn't be able to act against you or your house, which could have been bad for the entire Malfoy house. The debt can also be passed down to children. If you didn't settle it, Draco's children would also be compelled to help out you and your children as well... in a few generations, the house of Malfoy would have been in servitude to the house of Potter. More than one lineage has been 'absorbed' because of that."

"Aww, it would have been better if I just said I'll keep him in debt then..."

"It wasn't real, Harry. He would have figured it out as soon as Draco opened his mouth and tried to insult you or set his goons on us or something."

"Wait, does that mean you and Ron owe me life debts? And Ginny, too?"

"You could have been racking them up pretty quickly, if you acknowledge them. Normally the heads of ancient houses aren't foolish enough to throw themselves in harm's way like you do."

"So I have to acknowledge that you owe me a life debt before it actually happens?"

"Yes, which is why I didn't want you to shake his hand. It would more or less mean you agreed that all Malfoy owed you was his thanks."

"Thanks, Hermione... with any luck, Malfoy won't notice your little trick until Snape is gone."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Who thought the chapter would be about Dumbledore after seeing the title?

- One thing about life debts in Harry Potter was how unclear it was how they worked. Snape supposedly had a life debt to James Potter- but he told the prophecy to Voldemort, knowing it probably referred to Harry and that Voldemort would hunt down the Potters and kill them. Wormtail supposedly had a life debt to Harry, but still took his blood to revive Voldemort. I'm just going to say that life debts exist in the Harry Potter universe, but neither of these were real life debts: Harry was in no danger when he spared Wormtail's life, James Potter was in no danger of a werewolf bite- that was the reason he learned to be an animagus, after all. Ginny does owe Harry, though.


	32. A Bad Time for Brewers

**Author's Notes: **

- I wish I could go back in time and write Harry Potter before Rowling did.

* * *

**Chapter 32: A Bad Time for Brewers**

Hermione was getting a little jumpy whenever the aurors passed by in the halls. It seemed that when the adrenaline wore off and her brain started to kick in again, she used it to worry. The aurors had already questioned Draco while he was still lying in the infirmary beds, against Madam Pomfrey's protestations. Pomfrey herself was questioned thoroughly regarding Draco's condition, making sure there weren't any additional poisons or other aspects of foul play. Hermione was panicking when they heard the aurors were checking so thoroughly, but Harry managed to calm her down enough that she didn't give herself away.

Throughout the following day, Hermione was running scenarios in her mind of how many ways their memory charms could be revealed. Draco could regain some memories if they didn't do the charm properly. Harry assured her that their wand-work was perfect. Madam Pomfrey might call in a mind-healer who would discover it. Harry reminded her that Draco was a little shaken but would probably be back to his old, snobbish self in no time at all. They could send in a tracker to try to retrace the route in Draco's memory. Harry told her nobody would willingly attempt to trace his path into an acromantula lair.

Her tension peaked when the aurors finally brought her in for questioning. They took her down to the same chamber in the Hogwarts dungeons that she had been held in the early morning of New Year's day. This time, she wasn't strapped to the chair, but she still felt a little distressed being back there.

"Miss Granger, we'd just like you to answer a few questions for us," the lead auror told her. He set a Dicta-quill down on the table between them.

"Yes?"

"There was an incident in your Potions class four days ago which landed multiple students in the infirmary, correct?"

"Yes, my cauldron blew up, causing me and several other students nearby to inhale some wispen bone powder." The quill made annoyingly loud scratches as it wrote down what Hermione said.

"Why did you have the wrong ingredient? Several students have told me that the potion you were brewing that day called for powdered billagrut shell."

"I'm not sure. Professor Snape handed the ingredients out to each of us that day..."

The auror nodded. Her story corroborated with the other students'. "Now when did you first become suspicious of Draco Malfoy?"

"Me? I was too busy lying unconscious in the hospital wing to suspect anyone. Although, Malfoy does seem to have something against me all the time, so he'd be the primary suspect if anything ever happened to me."

"He holds a grudge against you? Whatever for?"

"Well, he hates muggle-borns, he hates Gryffindors, and he hates Harry Potter. That's two-and-a-half out of three for me."

"If he's so hostile to you, why would you bother trying to rescue him yourself?"

"Oh, you can blame Harry for that. He'd save his own worst enemy if he could," Hermione said with an exasperated sigh. "I just tagged along to support him. I didn't want him going into the forest alone."

"Thank you, Miss Granger. You've been quite helpful." The auror stood up, holding out his hand to help Hermione up. She gave him a blank look.

"That's it?"

"Yes. You may go." The door to the dungeon swing open and Hermione calmed down considerably. Harry was waiting for her outside. They hugged each other tightly, to the amusement of the aurors. "You know, Miss Granger, it's not like we were going to keep you down here forever..."

Harry spoke up for Hermione. "The last time she was down here, it sure seemed like it."

The aurors stiffened at this comment, much like they would have if they had offended Mr. Malfoy and his band of lawyers. Earning the ire of the Boy-Who-Lived was just as bad, but they were told never to apologize for following procedure. They ushered Harry into the room without comment and sat him down in the chair, pulling out another Dicta-quill. The auror leaned against the table instead of sitting in the other chair.

"Mr. Malfoy seems to recall that you were the one who initially stunned him in the forest."

"Yes, it's possible. I think it was about the right time," Harry admitted, shrugging.

"So you admit you attacked Mr. Malfoy?"

"Attacked? No. I was in the middle of a training session and he must have walked into one of my spells."

"Training session, Mr. Potter? In the forest?" The auror gave him a doubtful look as he crossed his arms.

"I _am_ a Triwizard Champion, you know. I go into the forest pretty often for training. Hunt a few hippogriffs, wrestle a few trolls, that kind of thing. I probably mistook him for some beast and hit him."

"Mr. Potter, this is a serious investigation. You'd have us believe you've taken on a troll before?"

"As early as first year." Harry smiled when the auror took the bait. Sometimes it was easier to lie when the truth was even wilder. "Ask Dumbledore if you'd like."

"How did you find Mr. Malfoy afterwards?"

"Retraced my steps, found a few footsteps of Malfoy, and saw them leading towards the acromantula colony. That's when I realized he was in grave danger if we couldn't catch up to him fast enough." Harry had rehearsed this line several times with Hermione, and it came out quite smoothly with the help of his occlumency.

"Why do you suppose Mr. Malfoy would be following you into the forest in the first place?"

"Are you kidding me? He's got some kind of personal grudge against me just because I didn't join Slytherin. He was stupid enough to attack me when we got back from the Christmas Hols and ended up breaking his own wand in the scuffle. I think his grudge has gotten bigger ever since."

The rest of the interview focused mostly on Harry's past scuffles with Draco. The aurors, who had personal experience dealing with the Malfoy family, didn't doubt Harry's side of the story very much but were worried about what Malfoy Sr. would do if they contradicted his son's claims. Harry was let go after about an hour. Hermione was waiting outside for him, and they both quickly ran to the seventh floor of the castle, breathing a sigh of relief when they slammed the door of the Room of Requirement shut behind them.

"That went better than I expected," Harry said, flopping down on a comfortable couch.

"I'll say. I expected them to jump out at me and shout, 'memory charm!' every other sentence."

"Fleur was right. You think too much for your own good, Hermione." He pulled her down in front of him and started giving her a neck rub. "Relax. This will all blow over soon."

* * *

"Blow over" was not really the correct term over the next week. "Blow up" was more like it. The news that Snape was soon getting ousted had already made the front page of the weekend paper.

**Potions Master, Teaching Novice?**

_By Andrea Anderson_

_One of Hogwarts' youngest professors, Severus Snape, has landed himself in a hot cauldron this week following the disappearance of a young, pureblood scion. Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, had wandered into the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts and was missing for days until Harry Potter rescued him. Lucius Malfoy pins the blame primarily on the head of his son's Hogwarts house, Severus Snape._

_Mr. Malfoy had this to say: "I brought my son up as a respectable and well-mannered boy at home. When I discovered that Mr. Snape has let the children run rampant inside his own house and always failed to discipline them for hooliganism, I feared my son would become as foolish and reckless as some Gryffindors. My fears came to light this past week when he decided to wander into the forest, unafraid of the consequences."_

_However, discipline is something Mr. Snape can only control for one-quarter of the students at Hogwarts. He is, however, responsible for all the students' instruction in potions. On the day before the young Malfoy's disappearance was reported, there was an accident in a fourth-years' class, sending seven students to the hospital wing. It appeared to be a case of contaminated ingredients. Once again, discipline was found to be lacking._

"_He's far too lenient on the students," Mr. Flint, another member of the Board of Governers, stated. "My son earned an Outstanding in his seventh-year class assignments, but in the actual Potions NEWT, he received a failing grade."_

_Needless to say, with Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Flint, and several other members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors calling for a review of Mr. Snape's teaching abilities, there could very well be a new Potions Master in the halls of Hogwarts soon._

There was a quiet murmur as the students who had a subscription to the paper passed their copies around. It quickly grew to a cheer that encompassed three of the four tables in the Great Hall. Snape was absolutely livid. He turned to Dumbledore for help. The headmaster appeared just as surprised at the news as he did. This being the weekend, of course, not all of the students were at breakfast at the same time, and nothing he said would be able to stop the rumours from spreading anyways.

By midday, everyone in the castle had practically considered Snape gone. A few students had earned themselves detentions when they simply called Snape "Snape" thinking he'd already been sacked. Just when Harry thought the news wouldn't be centered around him for once, he was caught by a gaggle of girls who were all reading _Witch Weekly_. They rushed up to Hermione and asked, "So, you're actually okay with an open relationship?"

"What was that? Let me see." Hermione snatched a copy of the gossip rag from one of the girls. "Harry Potter, Ladykiller? Oh, no, not another Skeeter article again... Valentine's... Hogsmeade... Jewellery shop... Fleur again? Ugh," she read aloud.

Harry went silent as Hermione read, his eyes shifting nervously as she continued. "Stole the glory from Cedric, stole his girlfriend as well? That's ridiculous. Multiple partners are often a sign of a megalomaniac, dark lord... this entire article's rubbish. I can't believe this. She's done it again. Harry, I promise I'll look for her the next time there's a press event. And I won't let any silly dogs distract me."

"And, for the record, Hermione is my one and only girlfriend," Harry stated firmly to the girls. "And Fleur was in Hogsmeade buying some jewellery for her date with _Cedric_ on Valentine's. There's only one jewellery shop in Hogsmeade so it's not a huge coincidence that we bumped into each other there."

As the rumours led to more and more chaos around Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione once again retreated to one of the few places in Hogwarts that remained quiet, and did some research in the library. An hour later, Neville and Luna joined them, greatly speeding up the process.

"So, I take it you had a hand in Snape's... 'professional assessment,' Harry?" Neville asked.

"I may have convinced someone to help us out," Harry said. "It seems that he's been able to get away with a lot in the past decade because he had friends in high places. They're probably not his friends any more."

"I just hope the replacement will be better," Hermione told them.

"I don't think any teacher could be worse than Snape," Harry opined. "At least in Binns' class you can sleep through it and still know what he talked about."

"If you enjoy it so much, why didn't you get rid of Snape every time?" Luna asked.

"What do you mean, 'every time,' Luna?" Hermione asked as Harry was left speechlessly staring at their blonde friend.

"Well, this is the only time you've had Snape sacked, right? Oh! They've never paid attention to what I said before!" Luna bounced gleefully on her chair.

"Who's listening to you? What are you talking about?"

"Hmm... maybe they're not listening to me," Luna said.

"What on Earth is she talking about?" Neville asked.

Ignoring everyone else, she jumped gleefully on her chair again. "Oh, they _are_ listening to you two! Sorry, Neville, they don't seem to care about you nearly as much, but I still do." Luna patted Nevile on his shoulder.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Um... what should I tell them?" Luna was talking to thin air again. "They're saying something about going to the house is a waste of time, even with the big red one... nope, that's all they want to say for now."

"Luna, who are you talking to?" Hermione asked.

"You, of course."

"No, I mean... who was telling you about the house? What house?" Hermione asked.

"The blibbering humdingers," she told them, as if they should have already known.

"What house are they talking about? Why is it a waste of time?" Harry asked, beginning to believe that her odd ramblings were the result of some kind of power.

"I'm not sure, they didn't say. It wasn't very interesting to them anyways. They don't like short stories."

"Luna..." Harry said, rubbing his temples. "So you're telling us to avoid a house in the future... is that it? It's kind of vague."

"Oh no, they said it happened months ago. It's not like I'm a seer or anything. I just like listening to the other creatures because they talk about much more interesting things than shampoo or star alignments."

"Thanks for the advice, Luna," Hermione said.

"What was that all about?" Neville asked, looking back and forth at his three friends. "Luna... you actually talk to those creatures? And they tell you things?"

"Well, sometimes I talk to them but they never listen to me anyways. I just like to eavesdrop and they don't seem to mind. I'd introduce you, but if you're having trouble noticing them this close by then maybe you won't be able to hear them at all." Her offer was met with three blank stares.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. She should have kicked herself for not considering the possibility, but she had to ask. "Luna, the blibbering humdingers... really exist?"

"No, of course not," Luna answered. Confusion swept through the other three faster than a _Confundus_ spell. Thankfully, she decided to explain things further, since none of the others could figure out what to ask first. "They're kind of like dreams, except I can only talk to them when I'm awake, so they're definitely not dreams. But they don't really exist, they only exist halfway, I guess. That's fine, though, I don't really care if my friends really exist or not." She leaned forward and gave each of them a hug. "I think friends that really exist are a bit more fun, though."

"That... made no sense at all," Hermione muttered weakly. "Harry, did you understand her?"

Harry just shrugged. "Beats me... even though I've seen a lot of weird things in my life, Luna will always be the weirdest of all. I mean that in the best possible way, Luna."

"Thanks Harry!" Luna smiled at him.

"I think we should be glad we're real," Neville murmured. Talking to Luna always seemed to put things into a perspective he'd never even contemplated before. If being called a squib was bad, it was nothing compared to how Luna was sure they weren't figments of her own imagination.

"Let's just go back to finding good potions, shall we?"

For following week, they pored over dozens of potions texts, going by the same criteria that Harry had thought of before. The potion would be fairly quick to brew and also had fairly quick effects. Lastly, they needed a potion that would fit the theme of "earth." Harry's role in the trial would probably be to identify the raw ingredients and collect them- Neville was a great help in that department, showing Harry most of the plant-based ingredients in their natural state. Hermione helped oversee his brewing in the Room of Requirement when they had a shortlist of possible potions. Just to be safe, he also practiced brewing the twins' exploding and immolation potions. If all else failed, he could always try blowing something up, at least.

* * *

A week and a half after the deal with Malfoy, and the students were seeing the evidence of his handiwork already. There had been a Board of Governors meeting on Friday, and the result was now standing at the ingredients cabinet. A man with extremely short, grey hair and his robe sleeves tied tight to his arms with cords was going through Snape's stores. He took out jar after jar, inspecting, smelling, even tasting a few. Some ingredients he would dump on to the desk and, pulling out a knife or tweezers that were strapped to his arm, he would chop or prod the ingredients. If Harry hadn't been able to identify the specific types of potions knives and tools strapped to his arm, the man would have looked like some crazed knife-murderer.

"Who are you and what are you doing with my ingredients?" Snape asked the man with hostility coating every word.

The man turned around. He appeared to be missing an eyebrow and had a few burn scars on his chin, making his short goatee slightly lopsided. Evidently he'd brewed a bad potion himself more than once in his lifetime. "You must be Severus Snape. Thought you looked kind of young," the man said, completely unfazed. "Didn't the association tell you I was coming? The name's Fleming. Floyd Fleming. I'll just be inspecting your ingredients here for any possible signs of contamination... improper storage... mis-labelling." He gave Snape a disdainful look with the last few words.

"I can assure you _my_ potions ingredients are in perfect condition," Snape said.

"I'll be the judge of that," Fleming said, turning back towards the cabinet. "You just go and teach your class, hm?"

Harry was glad he decided to come to class this week. He was tempted to ruffle Snape's feathers as usual, but he was also curious to see what this man would do to Snape alone. He decided to be a good student today. Snape stood behind his desk, clearly annoyed that the other man had dismissed him so easily, and told the class, "Wands away. You've all studied the supersensory potion. Now get brewing."

Fleming turned around and narrowed his eyes at Snape. "Hold it!" he said. Turning to the students, he said, "Everybody take out your wands. _Now._"

A lot of the students were unsure of what to do, looking nervously between their furious professor and the fierce glare of the newcomer. Harry decided to take the lead and released his wand from his holster. Most of the other Gryffindors and a few Slytherins followed suit.

"You're a slow lot, aren't you?" he sneered as several of the students still didn't have their wands in hand. "Maybe it _was_ the students' fault, after all," he muttered. "You're brewing a potion today, correct? What's the first step in brewing?"

Even Hermione was unsure of how to answer the question. Snape's first step had always been to put their wands away, and he'd already contradicted their professor. Still, she raised her hand. "Um... gather the ingredients for the potion?" she asked.

"Incorrect." Some students were stunned. Hermione actually answered a question wrong. Some of the Slytherins snickered.

"What's so funny? You know the answer? Tell me," he pointed his wand at Pansy Parkinson. "Better yet, show me. Get going."

Pansy stiffened up as everyone turned to watch her. She reached out to her cauldron and lifted it towards the cauldron stand. She was petrified into position by Fleming with a modified body-bind curse as he yelled, "INCORRECT!" Evidently, Pansy could still move her head as she turned and winced.

"Well, Mr. Snape? Would you like to give it a try?" He turned to the professor with an impatient scowl on his face.

"Well, for novices such as these, some of them would need to have a full copy of the instructions in front of them," he said derisively, watching Neville as he did so.

"IN-COR-RECT!" bellowed Fleming. "The _first_ step is to tie up your loose robes and long hair," he said, displaying his sleeves. "Unless you want to end up like your professor here. I can smell twenty different ingredients that have probably soaked into his hair over the years. It's disgusting. That hair could be a potion in and of itself."

Almost all the girls knew some kind of quick ponytail charm, so all of them had something to tie their hair back immediately. For their sleeves, most of them couldn't conjure rope or didn't know the specific spell, but they quickly figured out a partial shrinking charm worked pretty well. Ten minutes later, the class was once again ready, but Fleming had a disappointed look on his face.

"That took _far_ too long. For future reference, the spell is _Ligara Manica_. The next time someone walks into this room on a brewing day with hair past their cheeks, it'll be shaved off." Turning to Snape, he said, "You may proceed."

Snape was thoroughly miffed at the fact that he was being ordered around in his own classroom. "You all know what ingredients you need for the potion. Now proceed." There was a rush of students who ran up to the front of the room. Fleming, apparently, had left the ingredients they needed out for them while he continued to inspect the rest of the jars in the cabinet.

As soon as he heard the first knife chopping, however, he turned around and shouted, "Stop! Knives down, wands out!" He pointed his wand at Hermione's desk, who had been the first one to start dicing her ingredients. He vanished the tuber she was working on. Harry was shocked. He was starting to think that this new potions master might not be much better than Snape, but there was no reason to start a three-way fight right now.

"Tell me, girl. Do you know what you were just chopping?"

"Yes, it's the kakarot root. Its juices are the primary ingredient of the visual component of the supersensory potion."

Fleming smirked. "Evidently, you know the ingredient. Are you still able to smell it?"

"Um... yes, it does have the rather pungent odour that was mentioned in the textbooks..."

"_Should_ you be able to?"

"Sir? I don't understand."

"Should you be breathing in the ingredients you're chopping up?" His stared Hermione down for a silent second, and added, "Weren't you the one who inhaled some _contaminated _powder last week and ended up in the infirmary?"

"It wasn't her fault!" Harry leapt to her defence. "Snape's the one who gave her the tainted powder," he shouted accusingly at his professor.

Snape, outraged, snarled back, "Twenty points from Gryffindor for your disrespect, Potter, and I'll have you in detention for your lies!"

"Lies, Mr. Snape?" Fleming drawled out with a vicious glare. "Do you think I'm here on holiday? We've had testimony from the healer herself that your billagrut shell powder _was_ tainted. Keep your ego in check, rookie." Speaking to both Harry and Hermione, he said, "Mr. Snape takes half the blame for giving you a substandard ingredient to work with, but you take the other half for not casting a bubble-head charm on yourself when you began working with active ingredients. I thought you would at least learn from your mistakes, girl."

"But we've never learned that spell, sir. Professor Flitwick hasn't taught it yet." Parvati told him.

"And he won't, because it's supposed to be the Potions professor's job in second year the minute you began working with stuff that was more dangerous than apple juice," Fleming told them.

"He won't even let us cast spells in this room anyways. He won't even let us take our wands out to erase our mistakes." Ron spoke up this time, causing Harry to snicker. Ron wasn't a very diligent note-taker in class, after all. Many of the other Gryffindors began protesting as well, seeing that there was another adult who would be taking their side.

"So, I guess that _all_ the blame should lay on your professor, then?"

"Those foolish children have no idea what they're doing. They'd as soon as blow off blow up their own cauldron as cast a bubble-head charm properly. Don't tell me how to run my class, Mr. Fleming." Snape nearly spat out the man's name.

"On the contrary, rookie. My job _is_ to tell you how to run your class. You think you've got the credentials to question me? I've had my potions mastery before you were born. If you'd worked a single professional job since you received your mastery you'd know all the safety procedures by now. But you didn't, did you? Straight to You-Know-Who for you and followed that up by teaching kids after you turned. You can pretend you're the greatest potions master in the world as long as you keep hanging around those who know less."

Snape was left speechless as Fleming essentially took over the class, spending the rest of the day teaching them the bubble-head charm (which Harry, Hermione, and Neville already knew) and reviewing dozens of safety standards and techniques. Nobody got to brew a potion that day, and they suspected no class, in any year, would get to do so for the next few days.

* * *

"You can't let this go on any longer, Albus. The children are mocking me behind my back! They taunt me as if my leaving Hogwarts is a sure thing!" Snape and Dumbledore were having a private meeting in the headmaster's office the following week after Fleming had finally finished. No student would respect Snape's position as professor after that man had been in their classes, and most students were now pointedly ignoring him every time he told them to put their wands away. Some were spreading rumours that he was a squib, which was why he hated wand-waving as much as Filch. Others suggested that he had faked his mastery and deliberately sabotaged the students' work so they wouldn't surpass him and find out. Although untrue, the rumours were fuelled strongly by Snape's attitude against them.

"Severus, I'm afraid that I don't have control over the situation. Seven members of the board of governors have already voted against you for certain; only two more are needed to overrule me and force you out of Hogwarts. I have pleaded my case to them already."

"Then I'm on my own again, Albus. You won't be receiving my services any longer." Snape turned and headed towards the door.

"Severus, you can't leave now. You've told me yourself... the Dark Mark is growing stronger. Harry's visions have confirmed it. Voldemort is returning. I'll be needing your help more than ever. We won't be able to win the war without you."

Snape paused at the door but didn't bother looking at Dumbledore. "And what can you offer me this time, Albus? Last time you offered me Lily's protection, acquittal of my crimes as a Death Eater, and sanctuary at Hogwarts. Lily is dead, the Aurors are opening up an investigation again, and I'll be banned from the halls by the end of the week. What else can you going to offer me, Albus?"

"Is ridding the world of a Dark Lord not reward enough?" Dumbledore gave him a gracious smile, hoping to find some idealism within his former spy.

"No. Not this time. I'd be tortured for hours under Crutiatus for betraying him, and then tossed in Azkaban for returning to him even if he's defeated. The Death Eaters walking free would know that you personally vouched for me at my trial, Headmaster. And thanks to Moody, that madman has set the aurors on my trail once again. No matter which side I take, I'm facing a death sentence this time. My only hope is to deliver something of value to the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore thought for a while and motioned for Snape to sit down. "You can give him the prophecy regarding Harry."

Snape laughed. "I already did, Headmaster. Or did you forget that my actions already led to his downfall?"

"You don't know the entire prophecy, Severus. Let me tell it to you." Dumbledore recounted the night of Trelawney's interview, up to the point where he heard the young Snape scamper away halfway through. He then explained the second half of the prophecy to Snape.

"I could have guessed that, Albus, and Dark Lord would have as well. Nobody could explain what the power was that turned the Dark Lord's killing curse upon himself... although it does tell me that he must kill Potter by his own hand. The prophecy alone won't be enough." Snape paused for a few moments, thinking of another way to appease Voldemort. He realized there was one way that he would personally enjoy. "Give me Potter."

"That's quite a price for us to pay, Severus. Although, with the wording of the prophecy, it could mean that he will be open to attack only after Harry himself has died, I was hoping that Harry would defeat Voldemort himself." Dumbledore stared at his own hands morosely as he considered it... but if suspicions were correct, the boy himself was a horcrux and keeping Voldemort from leaving the mortal plane.

"If his talents at school and his abysmal duelling skills in the Tournament are any indication, then he will have no chance against the Dark Lord even if he trained for another decade. He has been rude, insolent, and completely disrespectful of authority all year. He would sooner run off and play Quidditch than learn how to defeat the Dark Lord. We can't afford to have another war begin so soon, Albus." Snape slammed his fists on the headmaster's desk, forcing Dumbledore to look at him.

"If we want to end the war quickly, then there is one thing you must deliver to me above all else, Severus. I suspect that Voldemort has used a horcrux... or, quite possibly, more than one. You'll have to find out where he's hidden them for me before we can vanquish him once and for all." He'd hoped that Harry would be the one to destroy the horcruxes, and then die when he finally faced Voldemort himself... but that would take far more time than they had. He had hoped that Voldemort wouldn't be able to resurrect himself until Harry's seventh year at the earliest, but Pettigrew's escape had greatly accelerated his return. They would be forced to destroy Voldemort first and the horcruxes afterwards- but Harry could only be killed by Voldemort himself, as the prophecy stated, and so he would have to be the first horcrux to be removed.

"The Dark Lord won't give up such information easily. If you want me to find out such sensitive secrets, there's no doubt I'll need to be in his inner circle. I must have the boy."

"You would give up the life of Lily Potter's son so easily, Severus?" Albus attempted one final plea to Snape's old love. It wasn't that he disagreed with the plan, but it saddened him to think that Snape had forgotten his love so easily.

"I loved Lily _Evans_. And the young Potter takes after his father far more than his mother, that insolent brat. A disrespectful troublemaker like him wouldn't be able to win us a war," Snape spat. "At least his death will give us some hope."

* * *

"What are we doing down here again, Harry? You haven't kidnapped anyone else, have you?" Hermione joked as they made their way down the chamber again.

"Ha Ha. Remember the pipes that lead up that we couldn't climb? Well, I figured it would fit a broom pretty easily if it could fit a basilisk..."

"So why did you bring only one broom, then?" Hermione asked sweetly while hugging Harry tightly from behind.

"...Exactly." He grinned as they both mounted the broom. Starting with the first path on their left, they flew slowly up the nearly-vertical tube. Once again, they found another snake-decorated door, which Harry opened. Beyond it, the path split into three. They decided to search from bottom to top and picked the path that seemed to be lowest. As they rose higher and higher, they could hear some muffled talking through the walls. Eventually they reached the end of the path, facing another snake emblem.

"Tell me when it's clear," Harry said, handing Hermione the Marauder's Map.

"Harry... we're not on here. I don't know where we are," Hermione said. Apparently the map couldn't track people in between the walls.

"Huh... let's just listen for it, then." They both sat around for several minutes until they couldn't hear any more voices, and Harry opened the door. He peeked around. Nobody was there. He closed the door quickly before anyone could discover them.

"I think that was in the dungeons," Harry said.

"Yes, your name popped up for a second when you stuck your head out. It's just around the corner from the Slytherin dorms, actually."

They continued the same way for the rest of the day, exploring every one of the exits. There appeared to be at least two exits on every floor. Harry recognized several of them being very close to the petrification incidents in second year. Several other exits were placed close to important areas of the school, including one near the Room of Requirement and one near the base of the Headmaster's tower. The tunnel didn't end at the base of the tower, however; it led into the walls inside the office.

Although there wasn't any exit into the headmaster's office itself, they could hear a conversation through the walls. The headmaster was in a meeting with someone else. Hermione motioned silently to Harry to leave, since it would be an invasion of privacy, but something caught Harry's ear. "How can you get Potter to me?" Harry could recognize that voice anywhere.

"Voldemort can't suspect my involvement, nor can you do it too soon, as it would look like petty revenge on your least favourite student. Wait until the news has settled... in a month, perhaps, when he is away from the castle for the sixth trial of the tournament. I can give you one of the tracking devices I have... pretend you stole it from my office."

"Let's just hope the Dark Lord doesn't come calling for his loyal Death Eaters before that, shall we? It would be far more impressive to him if I arrived early with his gift."

Harry and Hermione made no sound as they descended back down to the chamber deep below Hogwarts. It sounded to them that Dumbledore just wanted to hand Harry over to Snape... who was going to Voldemort. Could they have just heard it wrong, perhaps something out of context? Moody would whip them for being so optimistic. Constant Vigilance usually meant preparing for the worst- and the worst meant Dumbledore wasn't looking out for Harry. If they couldn't trust the headmaster, was there anyone they could trust any more?

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- at this point I'd like to say that I'm a big fan of the "small changes, big effects" types of time travel stories.

- chapter revised: i hope luna is only marginally less confusing now.


	33. Blasted Rocks

**Author's Notes: **

- Harry Potter is copyrighted by not me.

- Wow, I've hit over 200k words already. To be honest, when I started this fic I didn't think I'd reach 50k before I ran out of ideas, lol. Time to take a short break and do a few minor edits.

- yay! over 1k reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 33: Blasted Rocks**

Harry Potter never thought of himself as a spy, but here he was, hovering inside the walls of the Headmaster's office once again. He was somewhat paranoid of Snape and Dumbledore, and even though he'd overheard them discussing the plans of his kidnapping was over a month away, he still avoided them in the halls by making use of the Marauder's Map. On Snape's last day of teaching, however, he saw that they were having another meeting in the headmaster's office, so he quickly grabbed his broom and rushed into the secret passages. Jumping into one of the entrances on the seventh floor and flying through the tunnels, he was in position within minutes.

"...wish you luck with your new duties, Severus."

"That's easy for you to say while you're sitting inside one of the most ancient fortresses of Britain."

"I've done what I can for you, my friend. This could be over very quickly if things go according to plan. I'll ensure your name is elevated beside Harry Potter's in the history books when this is over." Harry could practically feel the headmaster's eyes twinkling through the wall.

"I'll hold you to that after the Dark Lord's downfall. Do you know where I might be able to contact him?"

"He's abandoned Riddle Manor after I first investigated it, but thanks to Harry's vision during the ball, I believe he has retreated to the mountains in Wales. I suggest you begin your search there."

"Very well, then. What are your plans while I go _hiking?_" Snape was obviously displeased at the prospect of enjoying the great outdoors.

"I'll reinstate the Order soon. As soon as you're sure you have the information on the horcruxes, we will strike against Voldemort. The sooner, the better."

"And how will we communicate? Owls are too easy to intercept and you can't leave the halls of Hogwarts without anybody noticing..."

"Fawkes will deliver our messages between us. He will know when you're alone."

"You seem to have planned this for a while, Albus."

"That I have, although I never intended it to happen so quickly. Harry's ability to forgive and love is his greatest strength. Even with the power of magic, he doesn't threaten his uncaring relatives to get what he wants. You could even say it is the power that Voldemort knows not..."

"That's what you're betting on?" Harry could hear Snape's shout clearly through the walls.

"If it were anything else, Harry would continue to live, and Voldemort would resurrect himself. Harry is noble, kind, and firmly on the side of the light. His death will not bring him suffering. I just wish the time were not so soon..."

_Like hell I will!_ Harry thought angrily. _Not after Hermione convinced me that I couldn't just throw away my life. Nothing new, though... still plotting my demise... well, Voldemort's demise, and mine being a fair trade-off._ He continued to listen, but the rest of the conversation was simply establishing a good cover story for both of them and Dumbledore promising to get Moody to back down against Snape. He silently made his way back down to the common room to collect his thoughts.

_So, they're really going to do it, _Harry thought glumly. _And Dumbledore even thinks that I'd be willing to just throw myself in front of the Killing Curse again._

His main priorities now were to continue avoiding Snape and Dumbledore as much as possible. The Marauder's Map helped him do that pretty easily, but that only worked within the Hogwarts grounds. The Tournament would take him outside the wards of the castle._ The Trial of Earth is this weekend, so I doubt he'd want to create a ruckus this early before he's actually contacted Voldemort_, Harry reasoned out. _Dumbledore also knows the general location of Voldemort's hideout, but he hasn't tried to capture or kill him yet._ Harry realized, rather morbidly, that the headmaster had always been waiting for him to die first. In any case, if Harry himself were to defeat Voldemort, he would have to deal with himself being a horcrux. But was that even a possibility?

He was given protection from his mother. What that protection was, he didn't understand at all, but it had saved him as a baby. It reflected the Voldemort's _Avada Kedavra_ and continued to work until at least first year, killing Quirrel just by touching him. Could a piece of Voldemort's soul even survive being attached to his body? And didn't a horcrux take a lot more work than that? Harry had seen a part of the ritual in his vision during the summer. He was pretty sure Voldemort never had the time to draw a large ritual circle in his bedroom with Harry at the center before he accidentally killed himself. Perhaps Dumbledore simply made a bad guess- he wasn't there when it happened, after all. And he was certainly wrong when he thought Harry would go willingly to his death, that's for sure. _Maybe I'll just kill Voldemort myself and destroy his horcruxes with the help of Hermione. If he comes back a few years later after that, **then** I'll accept that I might be a horcrux as well._

"Hey Harry, what's bothering you?" Harry was roused from his deep thought and looked up to see the twins, along with Lee Jordan, Angelina, and Katie stepping into the common room. He wasn't too surprised to see the twins, but the others he didn't expect.

"Aren't you all supposed to be in class? I can see the twins skiving off class for some kind of prank, but the three of you as well?" Lee had occasionally helped out the twins with their mischief, but usually didn't even break curfew to do it. Pranks involving him were usually set up in the hours between the end of classes and dinner. Angelina and Katie had _never_ been a part of the twins' pranking, as far as Harry knew.

"And miss out on celebrating one of the most momentous occasions the halls of this great castle have ever seen?" Lee cried out dramatically, throwing his hands in the air.

"Yeah, even we felt that this victory was more... _permanent_ than winning the Quidditch or House Cup," Angelina added. "So Katie and I decided it was worth it to help out this time."

"What are you guys planning?" Harry asked, hoping to get back at Snape one last time.

* * *

All students were required to be in the Great Hall that night, and everyone already knew why. Up at the staff table, there was already an extra seat, right beside Severus Snape. The man who had essentially taken over his potions classes for the past week was now going to take over them officially. After the students ate their fill and desserts were being served, Dumbledore stood up to make the announcement.

"Staff and students of Hogwarts, your attention, please." Snape sat straighter in his chair, while many eyes at the Gryffindor table darted back and forth.

"This ancient castle has seen many great wizards and witches walk through its hallowed halls. It is always a pleasure to see one of its talented students return and share their knowledge with the next generation..." Plenty of students couldn't help but roll their eyes and suppress a few snide chuckles. Snape glared at those who weren't able to hold it in.

"Alas, every one of us will know when the time has come to step outside the great walls of Hogwarts once again, and that time has arrived for our very own Potions Professor... Professor Snape!" Dumbledore clapped loudly, directing Snape to stand up. Most of the students grudgingly gave him subdued applause, more out of respect of the Headmaster than Snape himself. Harry didn't move his hands at all as he watched Snape rise from his chair.

Hermione nudged Harry with her elbow. "Come on, Harry, at least pretend to clap. It's only good manners. You don't want to stand out, do you?" She was partially right, as Harry was one of the few who didn't clap at all. Snape was glaring at Harry as he stood up. Then again, Snape probably would have been glaring at him anyways.

"Was it good manners to send you to the hospital? No, I'm having a hard time even pretending to be nice to him. I can't believe how much Dumbledore is spinning this." The headmaster would never mention the fact that the only people on the board of governors who didn't vote against Snape were the ones loyal to the headmaster _and _didn't have any children at Hogwarts in the past fifteen years. Harry calmly waited for the _real_ show to begin.

"Professor Snape has chosen to further his Potions training and research with some travelling. Would you like to leave us with any wise words before you leave?" Dumbledore smiled pleasantly, implying that he needed to make a good final impression.

"Potions is a great art which..." Snape began to speak, but quickly stopped. His voice came out several octaves higher than normal and he sounded like mouse. "Headmaster! Those blasted kids must have done something to my food!" he tried to whisper, but his voice rang out loud and clear throughout the hall.

The snickers grew to chuckles, which grew to outright laughter. Snape was furious at the humiliation, which was worse than what the Marauders had done to him back in his time as a student. "Harry. How did you get the Superstar Soprano potion into his food?" Katie asked.

"I know a house-elf or two," he replied. "What did you girls do?"

"It should be happening right about... _now._" Katie was watching the ceiling above Snape, so Harry turned his eyes there as well. The Hogwarts House banners which usually unfurled at the end of the year when the house points were tallied dropped down, proudly displaying the words "GOOD RIDDANCE TO BAD POTIONS!" In place of the usual house crests, there was an animated figure of a bat-like creature with a sharp nose and long hair with a cauldron exploding underneath it.

Harry laughed. "That seems more like the boys' style of prank, to be honest..."

"It was! Ours is late... whoops, here it is!" Angelina told him just as a bucket of liquid fell from the ceiling straight over Snape's chair. Since he was already looking at the ceiling because of the banners, he managed to jump out of the way... partially. He ended up crashing into the dining table screaming like a chipmunk and still ended up getting splashed a little on the left side of his face. Where it managed to touch his hair, it turned his hair golden yellow and sprouted a few ribbons as well. A second banner unfurled, with the words, "Hair Care Solutions now available from Weasley's Wonderwitch catalogue!"

"Damn! A few seconds earlier and we would have had him!" Angelina muttered.

"Not to worry, ladies, pranking is an art, and no artist can make a masterpiece the first time," Fred said, pulling her close and patting her shoulder.

"That's right. You did fine for your first try, girls. How did you add those ribbons, anyways?" George asked.

"Self-tying charm, shrinking charm, and a time delay charm. Took us all day to figure out how to get all of them to work together," Katie explained.

The hall exploded into complete pandemonium as Snape was humiliated in front of the entire school. Even Hermione had to laugh at the complete disrespect the other students had for the man in front of them. Students were booing him, others were cheering loudly for his departure, and even the headmaster's words couldn't help Snape save face after those pranks. He simply left the Great Hall without waiting for the rest of the night's announcements.

The heads of houses each tried to calm the students down. Professor Sinistra, who was to be appointed to the position of the Slytherin Head of House later that evening, had to take on her role a few minutes early to prevent fights from breaking out between her old house and the other students. When Professor McGonagall demanded that the pranksters turn themselves in, Fred and George gladly took the blame. They knew that it would make them famous for months, drum up more publicity for their business, and their girlfriends wouldn't take any of the blame. Win-win-win, as far as they were concerned. Professors Flitwick and Sprout had a much easier time reining in their students.

Finally, when everyone had settled down once again, Dumbledore continued with the new staff appointments. Obviously, Floyd Fleming was now Professor Fleming, in charge of Potions. He had quickly earned himself a reputation among the students for being both quick to teach and quick to punish. Technically, he was only a step away from being as harsh as Snape was, but that one step was to actually teach the material _before_ handing out punishments. He didn't forgive students for forgetting the lessons he taught, and Merlin save them if they weren't even listening the first time. Between him and Moody, it seemed like they were competing for the "most gruelling class" award.

Professor Sinistra was now the head of Slytherin. She taught Astronomy, a required course for all students, and wasn't much older than the students themselves. She would easily be the youngest Head of House in the history of Hogwarts, because very few Slytherin-oriented professors had returned to teach following the war. She was far better at hiding her Slytherin past than Snape, showing no bias to her old house. A few students were surprised she used to be one of the snakes herself.

Each of these professors received the respectful applause they deserved from the students. After dinner, all the students except Fred and George filed away to their common rooms, eager to discuss Snape's sacking. The twins, of course, were up all night cleaning up the mess they'd taken responsibility for, without magic.

* * *

Snape's departure left Harry in a good mood for the Trial of Earth. He'd been practicing his potions far more and had several potions memorized on his shortlist of useful candidates for the event. Professor Fleming even allowed him to use his class time to brew a few ahead of time.

He arrived at the front gates of Hogwarts dressed like he was ready for another round of wandless duels. He wore several potions-belts with his various potions- exploding, liquification, stone-skin, and even a few plant-nutrient potions for good measure. Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor had the same idea as him, especially after his wandless duel. Each of them had made their own potion-belt and carried several potions with them. The judges, apparently, hadn't foreseen this. One of the judges, Mr. Scalette, walked up to them and said, "No pre-made potions for this trial, all of you."

With a few chuckles, all four champions removed their vials, bottles, and flasks from their belts and handed them over to the arbitrator, who carefully disposed of them. When Bagman arrived, they portkeyed straight to the Trial location. The portkey dumped them all into the champion's tent- at least, it dumped Harry down on the ground. Cedric and Fleur looked at him with amusement, while Viktor frowned in disapproval as Harry got back up. _I wonder where we are now? _Harry thought as he tried to peek outside of the tent flaps. Only then did he realize he forgot to do research on the actual location of the event, concentrating solely on the studying the potions instead. He only hoped that the other champions had failed to do so as well.

"Hold tight, champions. The trial will start in half an hour, so there's just a few extra rules for this trial on top of the usual rules of the tournament. First, no attacks on your fellow champions, of course, but you can't steal their potions ingredients after they've collected them or interrupt their brewing. And once a champion's picked an egg to retrieve, that egg's off limits as well."

"Wait, you're not going to tell us what we're actually going to do?" Cedric asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oui, zis is quite irregular," Fleur added. Viktor only grunted to show his disapproval as well.

"We'll explain it at the starting line... it'll be a bit easier for everyone to see that way." Bagman's smile was met with four frowns. "Alright then, I'll be right back. Just hold tight." He ducked out of the tent, leaving the champions wondering what was going on with this trial.

"So... any guesses?" Harry thought aloud.

"Aren't we supposed to be competitors?" Cedric grinned. "My guess is the egg's trapped inside some chest like last time, and we need to brew a potion to get it out. That much seems obvious."

"Doesn't sound like it's full of excitement and danger as usual," Harry said, somewhat relieved.

"Yeah, this might actually be kind of boring," Cedric said. "I've never liked brewing, to be honest."

"I don't think anybody could, learning from Snape. Good thing he's gone." The other two champions listened silently as the two Hogwarts students bad-mouthed their former Potions master.

"So, I take it 'ogwarts is not known for its prowess in potions? Eet 'as ze reputation for being ze best!" Fleur declared.

"Not for the past decade or so. I forget who taught before Snape, but he was supposed to be one of the best. My father told me Potions was one of the most popular NEWT subjects at Hogwarts back then," Cedric explained.

"Yeah, I prepared for this trial by not attending class and practicing potions on my own," Harry told them.

"You too?" Cedric laughed as he admitted skiving off Snape's class as well. The champions all kept the atmosphere between them light until Bagman returned.

"Alright everybody, time to go on stage!" The ever-cheerful man ushered them all outside, and Harry finally saw what was in store for him. On the stage were four cauldrons and basic brewer's tools, as well as a satchel and a few empty jars beside each cauldron. The audience surrounded them in a semicircular amphitheatre so they could clearly see what each of them would be brewing. The amphitheatre itself opened up to a forest just beyond the seats- Harry wasn't sure what forest it was, but it certainly wasn't the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. The biggest challenge was standing right in front of them between the stage and the forest. Four massive stone golems, each one about five metres high, stood silently like statues. They were very simple creations- two massive slabs formed each arm and leg, and one giant slab of stone formed its main body. They didn't seem to have any particularly special parts or weaponry other than their bulkiness, but they were already deadly enough for Harry's tastes.

Bagman made his speech to both the audience and the champions. "Today, for the Trial of Earth, our champions will be trekking through wildly varying terrain in search of potions ingredients to defeat a golem, magically enchanted by all three headmasters of the competing schools together. These golems are charmed to be extremely resistant to direct magic and physical harm, but they are susceptible to potions-based effects. Embedded in the chest of each golem is the golden egg each champion is trying to retrieve!" Harry squinted, and could see one tiny golden dot glistening at the center of the massive stone chest of each golem.

"Don't worry, folks. The golems won't stray too far from where they're standing now, so you don't have to worry about one chasing a champion all the way up to the box seats. Now sit back and enjoy the show!" To the champions, he said, "Don't worry about getting past the golems initially- they won't activate unless you provoke them first. They also won't come close to the stage, so you can brew your potions in peace. Once they're active, though, they'll always target the one of you that woke them up, so watch out!"

_Damn, I wasted all that time thinking there was one specific potion to brew, and now he tells us just about any potion will do, _Harry griped to himself. _Oh well... at least I studied the stone-eater potion. That should come in handy. And the exploding potion if all else fails_. Harry was running the list of ingredients through his mind to make sure he knew what to get and nearly failed to notice Bagman shout, "Begin!" The sudden movement of the three other champions beside him brought his attention back to reality.

Harry grabbed the satchel and the empty jars and bolted after them. It was unnerving to run right past the huge golem's legs, as they looked like they would jump out and crush him at any given moment. The golem's body was well above his head, so he obviously had to find a way to topple the thing before he could even reach the egg. _Alright, exploding potion to blow off its legs and arms, and stone-eater potion to dig that egg out of its chest,_ he decided.

As he passed the golems, he stopped and looked at the rather odd landscape. There was a forest directly in front of him... but to his left, there was a desert about half a kilometre away. And to the right, there seemed to be some kind of rocky, mountainous terrain at the same distance. Whatever this place was, it seemed to be completely artificial. At least he was sure he'd be able to find the ingredients he needed. First things first- exploding potion, and plenty of it. Harry went into the forest to begin his search for the red rapaseed, an oily plant that was the basis of the fuel for the twins' exploding potion formula. Looking around, he saw a grassy field at the other side of the amphitheatre and headed that way. Fleur went straight into the forest, while Cedric headed off to the mountainous area. Viktor was already ahead of Harry, heading towards the green plains as well.

Harry stopped when he found the plants, and began the slow process of extracting the oil and filling up one of the larger jars with the fluid. Krum didn't stop at the plants, and instead kept going towards the badlands-terrain further away. He wondered what Krum was planning to brew, but didn't let himself get distracted as he continued to squeeze the oil out of the plants. Cut, squeeze, and repeat. He performed the mind-numbingly repetitive motions as the jar slowly filled. Twenty minutes later, his back was aching from being hunched over so much, but the jar was nearly full. If he was careful with his brewing, he'd have enough oil for about a dozen exploding potions. Perfect.

An enormous explosion in the distance nearly made him drop the jar in surprise. Thankfully he only spilled a few drops before catching his balance and sealing the jar tight. Looking towards the source of the noise, he saw a boulder explode, followed by another thunderous _BOOM_. He could just make out Viktor single-handedly taking down a rhinoceros-like creature. Harry wondered if he should help- but then again, maybe this constituted "collecting ingredients" for the Bulgarian. Viktor was dodging and shielding himself proficiently and the animal was already walking with a limp. It tried to charge one more time, and Viktor dodged it like an expert bullfighter unleashing an ice spear into the animal's side just as it passed by him. The beast finally collapsed, and Viktor pulled out a small knife and slowly began chipping away at the animal's horn.

_Why doesn't he just cut it off with a _Diffindo_? _Harry wondered, but then he realized what the animal was. Viktor was acquiring himself an Erumpent horn- and its fluids were at least a hundred times more explosive than the oil Harry had been collecting. The twins never used it in their formula, of course, because the fluid was hard to acquire, dangerous to handle, and very expensive. Harry wondered for a second if he should have tried to get one himself, but abandoned the idea quickly. If it took Viktor twenty minutes of hard fighting to take down the animal, Harry wouldn't have had a chance against it. He collected a few other ingredients that he would need from the fields, such as lemongrass, for stability, and shrewberries, as a snack, and proceeded to the badlands.

Viktor had already cut off the erumpent's horn and left the body by the time Harry arrived. _Seems like such a waste,_ Harry thought. It wasn't an endangered species, but he still felt odd about leaving such a large animal and taking only its horn. Viktor was pretty careful in his cutting, too- there was nothing left for Harry to salvage. He didn't quite enjoy the prospect of killing an animal himself, but he knew there was at least one ingredient he'd be needing from an animal. Well, a worm, at least. He had no problems killing one of those. Plants were still far easier to deal with, though. He was starting to understand Neville's love of herbology.

After collecting picking up a few of the stones and plants he needed from the badlands area, he jogged at a good pace all the way back to the desert area. It was time to hunt some Hulud worms, otherwise known as stone maggots. They chewed through rock as part of their standard diet, and their stomach bile was the main component for the stone-eater potion.

Thankfully, the tournament organizers had seen fit to lay out a few tasty rocks in the area for the worms to feast upon. Fleur, Cedric, and Viktor were all there, collecting worms as well. Fleur was disgusted with the prospect of collecting the worms with her hands, but it would take far too much effort to keep summoning the tiny, individual worms magically. Cedric was laughing at the expression on her face as he brushed a bunch of them into one of his jars. Viktor took it one step further and crushed a bunch of the worms with his bare hands, letting their juices drip into a vial. Fleur nearly threw up, and chose to turn her back to the laughing Bulgarian while continuing to collect her worms. Harry collected his quietly, amused at the byplay between the foreign students.

Viktor was the first to leave, followed by Cedric. Harry decided to collect a few more so he could brew a bigger batch of potion. He didn't stay too long because the last few components he needed were in the forest. It took him another half an hour to find all the components he needed in the forest, most of which were plants, and only one of which was deadly. _Thank goodness Neville helped me study, _Harry thought as he finally made his way back to the amphitheatre. His green-thumbed roommate had offered a lot of tips on the best techniques to extract saps and avoid thorns from personal experience, things which Hermione hadn't come across despite the many textbooks she read. It saved Harry's time and fingers.

He was the third one back on stage. Viktor and Cedric were already brewing, but Fleur was nowhere in sight. _At least I'm not last! Age isn't everything!_ Harry thought happily. He carefully unpacked his satchel and began making the stone-eater potion first, since it was easier to make. He didn't want to be left without a cauldron if his exploding potion blew up prematurely. As he began brewing, Cedric was already finishing up with his first potion and pouring it into vials. It was some kind of cloudy-grey stuff that Harry didn't recognize.

Like Harry, Viktor brewed the stone-eater potion first, but he used a much smaller batch and was already finished. Harry could see him working on the exploding potion already, carefully adding the erumpet fluid into the mixture. Fleur returned when Harry was halfway through brewing the stone-eater potion, looking more ragged than usual. It seemed that dirt and mud didn't mix well with her. _Maybe I should give her a portable swamp when this is all over... _Harry gleefully remembered the wandless duel.

Cedric was the first to finish all of his brewing. Packing several vials into his belts, he walked off stage. The audience cheered, eager to see some action at last. Harry was tempted to see what Cedric did, but he forced himself to concentrate on his own cauldron. It was too late to run back out there and get different ingredients, after all. He was forced to look, however, when he heard a massive, thundering stomp as one of the golems began advancing on Cedric. He breathed a small sigh of relief as the golem walked slowly- Harry could easily outrun it, if need be.

Only a few minutes later, Viktor was ready to do battle as well. Harry noticed that Krum carried only three exploding potions, whereas he was planning on making ten for himself. Then again, Viktor's potions used erumpent horn-fluid, which would make it far more effective. His suspicions were confirmed- loudly. A single blast of the potion had blown both the legs off one of the golems in his very first attack. It was now pulling itself forwards using its arms, dragging its massive body behind him. Lucky for Cedric, the blast had also knocked his golem off-balance. He had been using some kind of potion for architecture, which acted like mortar for cementing foundation stones. He had the golem's "knees" fused together so it was waddling in an unbalanced manner. The blast had finally knocked it down to the ground and Cedric was starting to immobilize its arms as well.

After carefully pouring his exploding potions into his vials, Harry was finally ready to march out and face his golem as well. He had to give Cedric's golem a wide berth as his golem's arms weren't fully stiffened yet, and he just barely drew his wand for a shield in time to block the debris from Viktor's third and final exploding potion, which took out an arm and a chunk of his golem's chest in the blast. Harry faced his own golem now, which stood completely still in front of him. _Arms or legs first?_ he wondered. Only his first attack would be undefended, after all. Unlike the others, he decided to aim for the arms first. Lobbing one of the potions towards the golem's shoulder, he watched it sail right over the construct and explode behind it. _Well, I guess that's why I'm a seeker and not a chaser,_ Harry thought, chagrined. The golem awoke to the blast and began lumbering towards Harry, much faster than Cedric's. Harry ran back to a safer distance. _Cedric's first attack must have slowed his golem down... I guess I should go for the legs, too..._

As the golem came closer, Harry readied another potion and threw it at the legs. He was aiming for its hips, but at least it hit the knees. The explosion was far less impressive than Krum's, but Harry could still see a few cracks form in the golem's legs. It still advanced towards him, though. Pulling another potion out, Harry threw it at the golem's legs before started running again. _Eight more potions to go..._

The golem was clearly slowing down now as huge cracks were forming on its leg-stones. Waiting for the golem to come nearer again, Harry threw one more potion at the golem's legs. With one final explosion, the golem's legs cracked and shattered, causing it to fall to the ground. The crowd roared. _Wow, thanks everyone! They didn't cheer that loudly for Viktor!_ Harry then realized they _were_ cheering for Viktor... and Cedric. Both of them had completely subdued their golems and were working to get the egg now, desperately racing to see who would get the egg first. Viktor didn't brew enough of the stone-eater potion and his egg was still trapped, while Cedric had dumped all of his potion and was waiting for it to chew through the rock. Viktor had resorted to using his wand and throwing his most powerful blasting hexes as quickly as he could, but even those were only chipping away at the granite. _When they said magic-resistant, they meant magic-resistant,_ Harry realized. _Seven potions left._

His own golem was now pulling itself towards him with its arms only. Now that it was down to his height and moving much more slowly, Harry was careful to conserve what potions he had left by getting closer and aiming for the shoulder. Two more explosions and there were visible cracks on the golem's right shoulder. Another two potions to the left shoulder, and the stones were struggling to hold up the golem's weight. Harry tossed one more potion at the golem's left shoulder, causing the stone to break completely. Luckily, the blast shifted the golem's weight over on its other arm, causing that to crack as well. Unluckily, the golem fell flat on its front, leaving the egg squashed under two tonnes of rock.

Adding to his annoyance was the fact that the crowd roared again as Krum brandished his golden egg in the air. Cedric followed only a few seconds later. _Nuts to them. At least I'm still ahead of Fleur... as long as I can get this blasted egg out_. Harry looked around. Fleur was certainly finished with her potions by now... and there she was, she was standing right beside her own golem. It had sunken straight down into the ground and was now stuck at waist-level. Oddly enough, it wasn't even attacking her, and she was already pouring her stone-eating potion on her golem.

_Okay, let's hope this works_. Harry blasted a small hole in the ground underneath one side of the golem and put both of his remaining exploding potions in there. Taking a few steps back, he cast one more blasting hex, detonating both vials. Thankfully, it did what he intended it to do- the blast flipped the stone over and even created a few severe fractures. He quickly pulled out all the stone-eater potion he had and poured all of it around the golden egg.

There was nothing left for him to do but wait and hope that Fleur didn't reach her egg before he got to his. The final few seconds felt longer than the rest of his fight against the golem as he watched the potion dissolve away at the granite surrounding the egg. Good thing the potion targeted stone specifically, as Harry got impatient and began pulling on the egg while the potion continued to work its way around the stone. He could feel it wiggle and loosen. _Come on, just a little more..._ he urged as he watched Fleur try the same with hers. With a few hard yanks, Harry finally pulled the egg out as the crowd applauded. Half a minute later, Fleur had her egg in hand and the trial was over.

* * *

"Hey, Viktor, how hard is it to kill an erumpent anyways?" Harry asked while all of them were being patched up in the medical tent. Thankfully, none of them suffered any major injuries with this event.

"Not hard. Just good timing and good aim," Krum said. "Cutting off horn is much more vork."

"Wait, you took on an erumpent by yourself?" Cedric gave an impressed whistle. "A single hit from one of those can kill a wizard!"

Vikrtor shrugged. "It can kill veak and slow vizards. It cannot touch Quidditch seeker." All the boys shared a laugh. Fleur, of course, was the only one who hadn't played seeker out of the four of them.

"Boys," she huffed. "Always so willing to jump into a fight wizout second thought."

"Hey, I wasn't the one hunting down dangerous beasts," Cedric joked. "At least I'm not afraid of a little worm," he teased.

"Ugh! I am not _afraid_ of zem, zey are simply disgusting," she said with a hard glare at Krum, who was grinning at her like a wolf.

"Hey, you're French. Don't you eat snails?" Cedric continued to poke fun at his girlfriend-competitor.

"Properly cooked. Wiz butter sauce. And eaten wiz proper utensils. Even ze cooks do not _squish_ zem to death wiz zeir bare 'ands like barbarians." Lucky for Cedric, her disgust was clearly focused on Viktor for now.

"Hey, come on, it's just a joke. It's not like Krum here's actually eaten live worms before..." Cedric joked.

"Actually, I haff," Viktor replied. Everyone, including the mediwitches stopped and stared. "Durmstrang survival training," he simply said, shrugging.

"Alright, everyone! Time for your scores!" Bagman peeked in to find all the people in the tent facing Viktor, frozen. "Uh... hello?"

Viktor merely grunted in amusement as he led the way out of the tent, causing everyone to come back to their senses and follow him out.

Up on the stage, each of them eagerly awaited their scores. Bagman enhanced his voice and then shouted out, "What a fine show we've been treated to today! It's time to score our champions for their efforts today! Beginning with fourth place is Fleur Delacour, who earned twenty points with her placement and a sixteen-point bonus for a very unique choice of using a cushion-rock potion on the ground instead of her golem, followed by a draught of peace to prevent it from attacking at all and allowing her to use her rock-eating potion almost immediately. Unfortunately, the extra ingredients for brewing three potions cost her some time and she was narrowly beaten by Harry Potter."

Fleur accepted her third poor performance in a row graciously, but Harry could tell she was feeling quite frustrated and outmatched and didn't have many chances left to make up for it. He could tell she wanted fame from the tournament, but not as "the girl" or "the prettiest champion." He wondered if the remaining two trials would suit her strengths.

"And beating her by less than a minute, but earning an extra twenty points in doing so, Harry Potter! He gained forty points for coming in third, but earns only seven bonus points for his potions, in which he seemed to prefer quantity over quality. We've also seen him use this potion before, so he didn't earn any bonus for creativity." _Hey! _Harry fumed. _It's not my fault I didn't want to get impaled by an ingredient! No bonus points for playing it safe? Fleming would probably want to have a word with the judges!_

"In second place is Cedric Diggory, who brewed a basic Morian mortar potion to immobilize his own golem. Being one of the first to finish brewing and attack his golem, he earned sixty points plus an additional fifteen bonus points. It was a very creative use of a non-combatant potion that performed exquisitely." Harry had to admit that was pretty impressive the way Cedric had chosen to topple his golem. The potion must have been pretty easy to brew, too, since he was done so quickly. Harry didn't think of looking through architectural textbooks while he was researching his potions.

"And finally, in first place, is Viktor Krum! Much like Harry Potter, he went for the direct approach of explosive potions to take down the golem and a stone-eater potion to get the egg. However, Mr. Krum chose to hunt down an Erumpent to make a far more difficult and volatile mixture, allowing him to destroy his golem in only three blasts. Unfortunately, he fell short on the stone-eating potion and had to resort to using blasting hexes to get to the egg before Mr. Diggory. For that impressive effort, he receives eighty points, and an additional fifteen-point bonus!"

* * *

After the event finally ended, they were portkeyed back to Hogwarts. In desperate need of good food and drink, but wanting to avoid the crowds, he headed towards the kitchen. He was ambushed halfway by Hermione, who was carrying the Marauder's Map in hand. "Harry!" she shouted. "I found Rita Skeeter!"

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- believe it or not, there is a method to Luna's madness. All will become clear... later. Maybe much later.

- Many species of Rhinoceroses are, in fact, critically endangered, and people do kill them for their horns alone (for whatever silly reasons- good luck charms, 'traditional medicines', expensive jewelry...) along with elephants and their tusks. Don't support poaching! Make sure you know what you're buying!


	34. Animagus: Achievement Unlocked!

**Author's Notes:** I wonder if JKR will write any more Harry Potter books?

- I was going to just call this chapter "An Animagus Achievement" but I couldn't resist.

* * *

**Chapter 34: Animagus: Achievement Unlocked**

She looked like she was talking to some students by the greenhouses. It figured that they were all Slytherins. She would be getting as many biased quotes as she could want now that the snakes had lost their "Snape Immunity" and Harry was the one being blamed for it. They needed a plan of attack- with only the two of them, she could get away pretty easily. But if they waited for to get help, probably from Neville and Luna, she might leave before then. She probably only intended to nab a few quotes while Harry was busy with the Trial of Earth.

Their decision was made for them as they saw the dots separate. She obviously hadn't intended to stay very long, and she wasn't even heading for the front gates. It looked like she was going to sneak across out the fields north of the castle to get out of Hogwarts' anti-apparition wards. The problem was that she was on the directly opposite side of the castle from them, and moving away. Harry and Hermione decided to split up, each running as fast as they could around each side of the castle, hoping to trap the so-called reporter from both sides.

_Wish I had my broom,_ Harry thought. _Wait a minute... maybe I can summon it from here?_ "Accio Firebolt!" he shouted, pointing vaguely in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He continued to run, just in case the summoning charm didn't work. After a minute, he finally saw a small broomstick tumble out from the seventh floor, heading towards where he was when he first cast the spell. "Accio Firebolt!" he cried again, stopping this time as the broom flew towards him. He flew high into the air so he wouldn't be noticed as easily, and to get a better vantage point to spot her. As he rose over the northern walls of the castle, he saw a woman wearing vividly green robes walking casually north. _That must be her, _Harry concluded. _Looks like she doesn't suspect a thing._ Harry swooped down behind her.

"Hello, Skeeter," Harry shouted out. "We need to talk."

"Look, kid, if you want to be in one of my articles, you'd better have some good dirt-" she began to say but stopped short when she saw who was talking to her.

"And if I _don't_ want to be in your articles?" Harry ground out angrily. He whipped around her, blocking off her escape route.

"Look... Harry... may I call you that?" Skeeter said nervously as her eyes darted around, looking for a way out.

"No." Harry refused her in the most flat and unappreciative tone he could muster.

"It's just journalism, alright? I'm just doing my job."

"You're not a journalist. Journalists report the news. You slander and insinuate. I want it to stop."

"Or what?" Her tone suddenly changed from being shocked and nervous to confrontational. "How could you stop me?"

_Ugh, maybe I should have made Lucius silence Skeeter instead_, Harry supposed. "Aren't you afraid that your Dark Lord Potter is going to torture you or something? That's what you've been saying this whole time."

Skeeter laughed a high, cackling laugh. She was only a few warts short of being a muggle's idea of an old witch. "Look, Potter, people want stories, and I give them what they want. Nobody's heard anything juicy about you for the past three years. You come back to the wizarding world to attend Hogwarts after a decade of silence, then not a peep of news afterwards. People almost forgot you're even at school here if it weren't for Sirius Black's escape last year."

Harry found it curious that nothing was reported about his eventful first and second years. Then again, Hogwarts would never manage to keep its reputation as the "best" school in all of Europe if there were yearly reports of dead teachers and petrified students. Certainly, Dumbledore wouldn't report that Harry had actually killed the teacher himself in first year.

Rita continued. "So, here we are, everyone's interested in you again. Lo and behold, you're in a tournament that you're not even eligible for! I'd be stupid not to get myself a piece of that action, if you know what I mean."

"You could have just reported the _facts_ like a _decent_ journalist would."

"And where would that land me? Right beside four dozen other journalists saying exactly the same thing," she rolled her eyes. "I needed something that stood out from the crowd."

Harry only then realized what she was implying. "You don't even believe what you write!"

"If I did, then that would put me on the same level as my _readers_," she scoffed. "Sheep can't shear each other, you know."

Harry was surprised at how little she thought of her own readers. "I'll sue you for libel. I'll find myself a lawyer..."

"Better than those who work for the _Prophet_?" She retorted quickly. "I'm an asset to them. My articles bring in the readers. I know you're rich, Potter, but you don't control the Potter fortune yet. You're just a kid. Good luck with that."

Lucky for Harry, Hermione had finally caught up, bringing the map with her. "So, what did I miss?"

"Oh, it's the muggleborn hussy," Skeeter drawled out. "Are you going to bring the French one too, Potter?"

"Don't call her that," Harry said, his anger rising. He saw Hermione motion for him to calm down.

"Face it, Potter. You've got nothing on me. Now get out of my way."

"Oh, we don't?" Hermione said. When Skeeter turned to face her, she immediately launched a legilimency attack. Surprisingly, the woman had no shields at all. Hermione found what she was looking for quickly.

"Ugh! What did you do to me?" Skeeter cried out when she was finally able to break Hermione's stare.

"I know your type, Skeeter. You're a lot like Pansy Parkinson. You can dish it out but you can't take it yourself. Tell me, what would you do if everyone knew your family was so ashamed of you they cast you out? And you didn't even graduate from Hogwarts!"

"What? No, that's a lie. You're just making it up." Rita looked at her in horror as she realized what had happened. "You... you used legilimency on me! I'll tell everyone... this is going in my next article!" She tried to sidestep Harry, who continued to block her path to the edge of the grounds.

"Funny thing about telling lies, Rita _Ogden_... when you do it too often, people don't bother paying attention when you start telling the truth. Muggles call it 'crying wolf.'" Hermione crossed her arms smugly. "So, do you want _those_ little secrets getting out to a few up-and-coming journalists who want to replace you, or are you going to stop slandering Harry and me?"

Skeeter panicked when Hermione spoke her birth name. She didn't hear much of what Hermione said afterwards, but turned and pushed Harry down to the ground as she ran. Harry got up, drawing his wand, but Hermione stopped him. "Wait, you don't want to be the one to cast the first spell, Harry."

Harry and Hermione both hopped on the Firebolt and shot after her, just as she ducked behind a few large boulders. They caught up within seconds, but saw nobody there. "Where'd she go?" Harry cried in frustration. "I didn't hear an apparition 'pop.' Did you, Hermione?"

"No, we're still inside the wards. She couldn't have apparated away yet. Maybe she's disillusioned. Try _Hominem Revelo_, Harry." He cast the spell, which revealed no other humans in the vicinity. Hermione checked the Marauder's map again, just in case. They were already standing at the edge of the map, and if they moved much further they wouldn't be able to track her any more. Luckily, she found Rita right where she had disappeared.

"She's right there, behind the rocks!" Hermione said, hopping off the broom and following the map. Harry followed Hermione to the rocks, as they both saw nothing. "She should be right here... we're standing right in front of her."

Hermione looked back and forth between the map and the ground, seeing nothing but grass. Harry, though, noticed a glimmer of green that was a slightly different shade- in fact, it was very much the shade of robes he saw moments ago. As he bent down to take a closer look, the beetle suddenly flew up and away from him. Hermione looked back to the map again and shouted, "Harry! That's her!"

Harry mounted his broom and quickly shot off, putting his seeker skills to use. He caught up in seconds and reached out to grab the bug, but Skeeter dodged at the last second, heading to the ground. Obviously, the reporter was smarter and more strategic than the snitch. She quickly realized she'd be completely outmatched in the air against Harry, and decided to try to lose them on the ground.

Hermione saw her scuttle into a gnome-hole to get away. _No! I can't let her get away!_ she thought desperately. _I've already failed Harry once... we're so close this time!_ As she peered down the hole, she barely noticed herself shrink down as she focused on nabbing the little beetle. Instinctively, she hopped into the hole, emerging a minute later with a fat beetle trapped in her beak.

Harry stared at Hermione, who had somehow just completed her animagus transformation. "I hope you're not planning on eating her," he joked. She was a cute little burrowing owl, exactly what he'd seen before in their dreams. Harry conjured a jar and let Hermione drop Skeeter inside. "Now what?" he wondered.

Hermione hopped back towards the gnome-hole and hooted at Harry. He realized why she wasn't changing back- her clothes were laying on the ground. Evidently, making your clothes part of your transformation was something they had to practice. Making sure to cast an Unbreakable charm on the jar, Harry collected her clothes. "Hop on my shoulder, Hermione," he told her. "We'll head up to the Room so you can change back."

Hermione hooted again and pecked at the jar that held Skeeter. Harry couldn't figure out what she was saying. "Huh? Of course I'm going to bring her..." Hermione hooted again, this time covering up the jar with her wings. Harry tried to figure out what Hermione was trying to tell him.

"You want me to _leave_ her here?" Hermione vigorously shook her head.

"You're not saying you want to carry her yourself, do you?" Hermione _did_ manage to communicate what a stupid idea that was.

"Uh..." Hermione tried to cover her eyes with her wings. The sight of a little owl playing peek-a-boo sent Harry to the ground, clutching his sides. "Oh... right. I understand now," he said when he finally stopped laughing. He cast a painting charm at the jar, covering it up so Skeeter wouldn't be able to see where they were.

Hermione let out an exasperated hoot and flew up to Harry's shoulder. Harry mounted his broom flying straight to the Owlery, and from there they walked up to the seventh floor. He managed to avoid most of the other students along the way, so he didn't have to explain why he now had a plain brown owl instead of Hedwig. He requested from the Room a place for Hermione to change and where he could continue to "negotiate" with Skeeter.

When Hermione had changed back into her human form (and her clothes), they removed the paint charm from the jar so that the beetle could see them. For now, it wasn't moving.

"I guess we can add 'unregistered animagus' to your list of credentials. I'm sure plenty of people will want to know that," Hermione said. "Tap the lid if you understand, Skeeter."

The beetle did nothing but wander aimlessly at the bottom.

"Alright, let's try this. If you don't agree to our offer, we're going to release all this information to the public. You were born Rita Ogden, cast out of your family because your lies and rumour-mongering ended up getting your grandfather, Tiberius Ogden, in a lot of trouble. His exact words, as you recall, were 'the words that come out of that girl's mouth are naught but lies and deceit. The family of Ogden will never host such a two-faced kumafox in this house.' Now, if they found out you just changed your name and started making money from that nasty habit of yours, they wouldn't be very happy, would they?"

The beetle stopped moving around but didn't do anything to acknowledge her words.

"On top of that, because they kicked you out right when you came of age, you didn't have the money to finish seventh year Hogwarts. You... must have faked your credentials to get where you are," Hermione deduced. She had a few snippets of Skeeter's memories to work with, but she was making educated guesses to strike a little more fear into the insectoid reporter.

"Oh, and you're an illegal animagus. Now tap the lid if you don't want us to publish all this information about you," Hermione snarled. Harry was surprised she could make such a nasty expression.

The beetle flew up, hitting the lid of the jar once.

"Good," Hermione said. "Now, you _will_ stop writing articles about Harry and me. Forever. The only time you will mention, hint, imply, suggest or speak of either of us is with our express permission. Understand?"

The beetle hit the lid once again.

"And lastly, you will owe us an article as a favour, in the future, whenever we need it. You will write what we want you to write."

The beetle froze this time. Skeeter was unsure of how bad this could be. She knew that indeterminate "favours" often ended up being huge debts.

"Hm... is that a no? Or is this really just some dumb beetle and the last two times she flew up were just coincidences?" Harry chimed in. "Oh well, we can't let a perfectly good beetle go to waste... let's feed it to the Saturnine Flytraps."

The beetle banged the lid rapidly. Harry and Hermione both smiled.

* * *

After releasing Skeeter with a few discreetly-cast tracking charms, they were greeted by Professor McGonagall inside the castle. "Mr. Potter," she addressed Harry in a very stern voice. "Is that your broom you're carrying?"

Harry looked at his Firebolt. "Uh... yes?"

"Was it in your room an hour ago?"

"Yes...?" Harry didn't like where this was going.

"Then may I ask how it is now in your hands when you haven't stepped through the Fat Lady's portrait?"

"I summoned it..." Harry answered meekly.

"Straight through the window of your dormitory." His head of house crossed her arms. "Detention... immediately, Mr. Potter. You can help Mr. Filch repair the window. And I'm confiscating your broom for one week. What could have possibly possessed you to summon your broom instead of simply retrieving it from your room?" She couldn't take away house points while Harry was a Triwizard competitor, but she could still assign him detentions as the head of his dormitory.

"It... umm... emergency... never mind. I'm sorry." McGonagall didn't need to know about their little escapade with a dishonest reporter. At least there weren't any Quidditch this year, so losing his broom for a week wasn't a big deal. He waved Hermione good-bye and ran up to his dorm. Hermione remained with the professor.

"Professor, can you help me register my animagus form?" Hermione asked proudly. She knew that she had originally intended to keep the form a secret and they'd made Skeeter promise silence, but it was better to err on the side of caution. She couldn't trust Skeeter to keep her mouth shut, after all. At least Harry's form could still be hidden.

"Miss Granger, you're interested in becoming an animagus? You know you don't have to register until after you've completed your full transformation. Many people begin to learn, but very few actually complete it. Not that I'm doubting your abilities, of course, but it normally takes several years, so there's no rush..."

"I've already completed my transformation, professor. It was... uh... just a little after Harry summoned his broom."

McGonagall's mouth hung agape for a few moments before she caught herself. "You... you're only fifteen! This could be a record for the youngest animagus in... in centuries! Could you show me your form?" She nearly lost her usual, refined composure at the excitement of Hermione's achievement.

"Um... I'd rather not... I haven't quite figured out how to... incorporate my clothing into my transformation... but I'm a brown burrowing owl."

"Well... come to my office then. I'll seal the doors and windows, and I promise I won't watch when you transform back into your human form. My advice to you would be for you to... _feel_ that your clothes are a natural part of your body to incorporate it into your transformation."

They did just as they had promised. This time, Hermione managed to incorporate her bra and knickers into the transformation, but her clothes still fell to the floor. It was remarkably easy this time- the initial transformation seemed to have broken some sort of barrier, be it mental, magical, or physical. McGonagall applauded her form, changing into her cat form so they could see each other eye-to-eye. Eventually, the professor changed back, conjuring a simple screen for Hermione to put on her clothes again.

"Very well, I'll put in the request for you as your mentor, even though I'm guessing you learned it on your own?" Seeing Hermione nod, she continued. "Do you know what triggered your first transformation? You don't have to answer... I'm just curious."

"I was... chasing down an insect that had run into a gnome's burrow to hide," Hermione answered sheepishly.

"Ah, that does make sense. The burrowing owl is a predatory animal that hunts insects and small animals... the hunting instinct would have been a great starting point. I suppose I'll tell you my own, since it's only fair- I was actually meditating on my animagus form at my home when I heard a mouse rummaging through my kitchen. Before I knew it, I was on all fours chasing it down. I suppose I should thank that little mouse..." McGonagall sighed, as it was clearly one of her more joyful memories. She even enjoyed prowling around Hogwarts at night as a cat, although she still disliked Mrs. Norris.

"Were you... alone when it happened?"

"Oh, yes, I had the day off, and I preferred to meditate in peace..." she realized what Hermione was going to ask next. "Don't worry, Miss Granger... my first time, I left my robes behind as well." Hermione winced. She didn't need that mental image.

"I guess I should thank Harry then..." Hermione murmured.

"You were outside when it occurred, then?" Hermione nodded, embarrassed. "And I suppose Mr. Potter helped you gather your clothes for you to transform back?" With another nod, Professor McGonagall smiled, and handed Hermione the Firebolt. "I suppose such gentlemanly behaviour should be rewarded. I can't give house points to him now, but you can take his broom back to him. I do know how much he adores his flying."

"Thank you, Professor!" Hermione switched gears, feeling it was a good time to be frank with her head of house while she was in a good mood. "Professor, I want to ask you a question about the headmaster..."

"What would you like to know?"

"I know Professor Dumbledore has done many great things in his life... like defeating Grindelwald and fighting Voldemort..." McGonagall shuddered lightly at the name. "But... do you think he's ever made any bad decisions?"

"You ask a tricky question, Miss Granger. I've seen him make an occasional mistake over the years, but he always did it with the purest intentions. In the last war, he was often faced with dilemmas between bad and worse. I have never seen him make a decision that wasn't for the greatest good in mind. He is a shining example of a Light wizard."

"Thank you for your insight, Professor." Hermione saw the proud smile on McGonagall's face. It was obvious she held Dumbledore in high regard- quite possibly as her idol. When it came to choosing between Harry and Dumbledore, there was no doubt whose side of the story she would believe first.

* * *

At breakfast the next day, there was no article in the paper by Rita Skeeter. Things seemed to be going well so far. They loaded another basket of food from the kitchens and went for another visit to Sirius. Hermione had been practicing all night with her animagus form and could now incorporate non-enchanted clothing into her transformation pretty easily, although she was now concentrating on making her wand part of the transformation. The result was a relatively sleepy Hermione as they prepared for the long, underground walk to the Shrieking Shack. Harry offered to let her take a nap inside the food basket in her owl form, which she gladly accepted.

Sirius greeted Harry when he arrived. "You know I was taking a nap? You woke me up!"

"Oh, I guess you don't want this food, then?" Harry asked, holding the basket up. "And you should thank me for making sure those wards are still working on this house."

"Mm... is that turkey I smell? Give it here!" Sirius grabbed the basket from Harry, who remembered what it carried a second too late. Sirius dropped the basket on the floor and reached inside, only to pull his hand back out in pain. "Ow, what was that? You gave me a live bird?"

Hermione was glaring angrily at both Harry and Sirius as she poked her head out of the basket. She hopped out and transformed back into her human form. "Thanks for warning me, Harry," she snapped at him while rubbing her head. "And couldn't you be a little more gentle?" she muttered to Sirius. "Even the sandwiches inside are a mess now."

Harry mumbled an incoherent apology while Sirius was left dumbstruck. "Hermione! You're an animagus!" he finally managed to squawk out. "Now you just need a really good prank and you can officially be a marauder!"

"Oh, she did a really good one that really only came to fruition last week..." Harry smirked, knowing it was probably better than any prank that the marauders actually managed.

"What was it?"

"She got Snape sacked." Sirius's eyes bugged out.

"I didn't get him sacked! You're the one that suggested it..." Hermione said bashfully. She didn't really want to think of herself as a prankster- no, she was studious. Okay, so she broke a few rules occasionally, but that was usually for Harry's sake. A prankster? No... never.

"Don't be so shy about it, Hermione. You're the one that _let_ me do it. Oh, and it gets better, Sirius." Harry was grinning so widely his cheeks were aching.

"The two of you got Snape sacked! How could it get any better? I mean, James and I tried to get him expelled back in our day, but you've topped us already! Tell me how you did it!" Sirius was giddily hopping up and down now. If it weren't for the beard, Sirius was looking as exciteable as a first-year.

"Oh, but we didn't really do it... we got Lucius Malfoy to do it for us."

It took a while to revive Sirius from his stupor, but when they did, they explained how the whole episode before and after Valentine's Day played out. Sirius was in awe over everything they had managed to do, but when their story ended, he had come to a definite conclusion. "You need a marauder name."

"I'm don't want to be called anything other than Hermione," she said.

"Too bad, because you don't get to name yourself."

"You can't be..." she stopped short of making the pun.

"Of course I'm Sirius!" Sirius completed it for her anyways. "But I'm also Padfoot. You think I chose that name for myself? Heck, you think Remus picked Moony for himself? Now, change back to your animagus form. Don't change back until we've finished deciding." Hermione sighed, knowing that she'd end up with a nickname anyways, and became a burrowing owl again.

"Wow, those feathers on her head are really fluffy, aren't they?" Sirius observed.

"And those legs are really long for a bird," Harry added.

"Fluffball," Sirius suggested. Hermione angrily pecked at him.

"No. That's completely ridiculous." Harry would keep that one for personal use, though.

"Downypop."

"What's that even supposed to mean?" Harry asked.

"Those legs of her make her look like a lollipop, don't you think? A feathery lollipop." That resulted in Hermione hopping on Sirius's leg and squeezing with her talons. "Ow! Okay, fine. Sheesh."

"How about Stiltwings?" Harry tried out. It didn't result in Hermione hurting him, at least.

"Nah, makes it too obvious that she's a bird. She's pretty smart, right? How about Stiltwit? Long legs and a sharp mind, always good things for a girl to have." Sirius laughed at his own joke, and Harry thought it fit.

Seeing that Harry wasn't coming to her defense for that one, Hermione transformed back to her human form. "No! It makes me sound like a twit! You've got it ending in 'twit!' That's anything BUT intelligent!"

"Sorry, you transformed back. That means you've accepted 'Stiltwit' as your name!" Sirius laughed. "Hm... but you do have a nice pair of legs, I do declare. The 'Stilt' part of the name must stay." Hermione was wearing a pair of slim-fit jeans that day instead of her usual wizarding robes.

"Sirius, will you stop ogling my girlfriend?"

"Hey, at least it's only her legs. Good thing you didn't transform into a booby." Harry and Hermione both groaned.

"If I did, I'd be called Bluefoot or something," Hermione said dryly.

"I could go on all day about tits, too. Especially the great tit."

"Stop it, Sirius. I don't think I can take any more bad bird puns." Harry joined Hermione with disapproving stares at the man in front of them.

"Ah, that's all I got, anyways. I DO have some news for you two, though!" Sirius was rubbing his hands with glee. "I won't have to live in this shack any longer. Dumbledore's helping me secure my old home in London with a few powerful wards, and then I'll be able to move into the Black family manor."

Harry and Hermione both glanced at each other when Sirius spoke their headmaster's name, but congratulated Sirius on the new development. He continued, not noticing their looks of distress. "When I get back there, I can probably pick up a wand. Possibly my father's spare wand, if it's still laying around the house. Won't be a perfect fit, but better than a random wand off the street."

"Sirius," Harry interrupted. "Do you trust Dumbledore?"

"Of course. He's the greatest wizard of our age. Don't you?" Sirius answered the question as if it was the most obvious truth in the world.

"If you had to choose between him and me, who would you pick?"

"What? Why are you asking this? Don't tell me you're turning dark or something..." Sirius joked, but cut his laughter short when he saw their grim expressions. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yes. If I asked you to defend me, even if it meant going against Dumbledore's wishes... would you?"

"Of course I would, Harry. You're my godson. But you don't seriously believe that Dumbledore wouldn't be on your side as well, would he? I mean, you're the Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of You-Know-Who!"

"Just say Voldemort, Sirius. And yes... I overheard him in his office. He believes that the only way to permanently vanquish Voldemort is for me to die."

"Are you sure you heard him right?" Sirius asked fearfully. Knowing that one of the greatest leaders of the last two wars wanted a national hero dead wasn't easy to comprehend.

"Unless there's any other Potters alive, then I'm sure he was talking about me. And from what I can tell, he's planning on doing it soon, with Snape acting as his spy to take me to Voldemort himself. He thinks I would make a good welcoming gift and instantly land Snape in his inner circle."

"So that's why he wanted to reinstate the Order..." Sirius mumbled. "Don't worry, Harry, I'm on your side. Have you got a plan?"

* * *

Over the following week, Harry was striking off potential allies one by one. Sirius was the only one who he knew would take his side. The Weasley parents welcomed him like he was one of their own children, but that also meant telling him to sit still and listen to the headmaster, who obviously knew best. Hagrid obviously loved Dumbledore, and Harry couldn't blame him. The headmaster _had_ given him a job and a home for the past half-century despite never finishing his education. Most of the other professors were just as loyal and didn't even know Harry well enough to call him anything more than their student, so he certainly couldn't ask much of them. Oddly enough, Professor Fleming was perfectly willing to help him... for a price.

"I've brewed undetectable performance potions for many clients before, Mr. Potter," he offered after class one day. "Including a few team members in the Quidditch league... not naming any names, of course. I understand the need for privacy."

It seemed that being a mere professor in Hogwarts wasn't nearly lucrative enough, and he still spent weekends directing a brewery that specialized in unique, tailored, or hard-to-brew potions that was run by his apprentices. It certainly explained why he was so strict with safety precautions- and how Malfoy knew him in the first place.

That left him with only one more adult ally left- Moody. The following week during their training sessions, they had moved on from the individual skills to preparation and strategy. Harry, however, made a request for more practice with tracking skills.

"You've done a fine job with it already, lad, and you've proven it by finding the little Malfoy scion. Are you only asking because of the next Triwizard Trial?"

Harry hid his amusement when Moody mentioned Draco, but nodded. "Err... yeah. I just wanted some more practice with it."

"What_ is_ the next trial? You never told me. It's not going to be another duel?" In the excitement of Skeeter and Hermione's animagus form, Harry had completely forgotten to explain to her what he needed to prepare for.

"The third Trial of Champions is going to be the Champions' Hunt," Harry explained. "Three against one. The one person has ten minutes to run and hide, and afterwards the three others have to hunt them down and incapacitate them. Obviously, the one who lasts the longest gets the most points."

"Can't help you with the Tournament. Rules are rules," Moody explained. "Teaching you fighting and duelling was always part of my lesson plan, but I can't change it to help you with this one trial."

Harry sighed as they started their lesson. To their surprise, they weren't doing any physical activity at all today. Moody pulled out two sets of Wizard's Chess. Moody had each of them play a single game against each other. _Ron would have loved this,_ Harry thought. _Shame he didn't want to keep up the training at the beginning_.

"Can anyone tell me how this game relates to a real battle?" Moody asked each of them. Back in her natural environment once again, Hermione's hand shot up.

"It's a representation of a medieval battlefield. The pawns are footsoldiers, the knights can jump over pieces because horses are more mobile..." she began explaining.

"Wrong. That's what they write in books, isn't it?" Moody smirked. "Would you three like to try?"

Harry and Neville looked at each other doubtfully. If Hermione got it wrong, they didn't think they had a chance without making fools of themselves. Luna spoke up without such restraints. "If I had this chessboard in a real battle, I could throw it at someone or hit them over the head."

Moody laughed out loud. "The aurors could use a mind like yours, Lovegood. She's right. This has nothing at all to do with a real battle," he explained. The pieces began to protest over the insult- the battles were very real to them, after all. Moody banished them all back into their boxes. "Now can any of you tell me why?"

Harry could see the point Moody was making now. "You take turns moving pieces, one at a time. A real battle would involve everyone moving at once."

"Partially correct. Anyone else want to try?"

"The chessboard is square, and you can see everything. A battlefield can be anywhere. The enemy could be hidden," Hermione suggested.

"The armies are the same size... it's always a fair fight," Neville pointed out. He never experienced a fair fight, especially in his first three years at Hogwarts.

"If the point is to protect the king, then why bring him to the battlefield in the first place? It seems like a rather silly thing to do," Luna said.

"All of you are right, but all of you are still missing the most important point. In fact, it can all be summed up into _one_ problem that makes the game almost completely inapplicable to real battles."

It was Luna who pointed out the obvious once again. "The game has rules."

"Exactly right! A real battle has no rules. There might be laws you want to follow, but even the law won't stop you from doing something. It can only punish you for doing it after the fact- such as casting an Unforgivable. And just because you hold yourself to some rules, don't you dare assume your opponent will follow the same rules. Now, that's not to say the game's completely useless- there are a few concepts that you can take away from it."

"You have limited manpower?"

"Yes... you only have so many pieces at your disposal, so you need to make each one count."

"Specialization? Some pieces are better at one thing than another."

"Also good to play to your strengths, but be aware that even a healer can just as easily cast a cutting charm to the neck." The way Moody said that made the four of them think he'd experienced it personally.

"Sacrificing pieces..." Harry mumbled out, recalling his own game against Hermione. He certainly thought nothing of losing a few pawns to lure her queen into a bad position.

"Right. Sometimes you need to give up something to coax your enemy out of hiding or pull them into a trap."

"Sir... I don't mean to pry... but in the last war... did you ever...?" Harry stammered out the question, afraid of what Moody's reaction would be.

"Send a few aurors to their deaths? Yes. Dangerous times involved dangerous missions. I know we lost two aurors who were attempting to infiltrate the Death Eaters who were executed... but they all knew what they signed up for," Moody explained gruffly. "I'd only let the willing put their lives on the line, though. One of my personal _rules_. Don't assume your enemies will show the same courtesy."

Harry was left wondering, once again, whether or not Moody would help him or side with Dumbledore. But then again, Moody was the only one on staff who was old enough to have fought on Dumbledore's side against both Grindelwald _and_ Voldemort. If anything, his trust in Dumbledore was even greater than the average staff members'. If Dumbledore believed that Harry needed to die, Moody at best, would probably stand aside. The rest of the lesson was spent in a daze as they toured the castle and talked about defending or laying siege to it.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- what _is_ the difference between Wizard's chess and regular chess, anyways? Other than the fact that the pieces talk. I would think there would be more... wizards as pieces. and fewer swords.

- Burrowing owls are so cute... I wonder if Harry can resist petting Hermione in her owl form.

- Hermione's an official Marauder before Harry. I didn't really plan that. But her nickname stays. =P


	35. The Hunt, Part 1

**Author's Notes:** JKR is God. Of Harry Potter.

- I am open to suggestions for Harry's animagus name. Remember, he's an osprey, although he still hasn't finished his transformation yet.

* * *

**Chapter 35: The Hunt, Part 1**

The following month went by far too quickly for Harry's liking. Sirius had finally moved into the Black family manor at 12 Grimmauld Place, but was now essentially stuck at that location. He did retrieve an old wand from the home and also an old trinket- two-way mirrors. He managed to sneak them to Harry and Hermione two weeks later without Dumbledore noticing.

"The order's in recruitment mode right now. Dumbledore's calling all of the old crowd in- Moody, Remus, Elphias Doge, and he's hoping to get the older Weasleys in soon. Moody's recommended a few of the new recruits, including one of my only cousins that didn't turn dark."

"You met up with all of them?" Hermione asked brightly. It would be good to know that Sirius was getting some more human interaction than just the two of them.

"Yeah, Moody's eye almost popped out of its socket when he saw me. Dumbledore explained that I was innocent. He still made me take some Veritaserum before he believed me." Sirius chuckled. "He also mentioned that you convinced him that Snape let me escape, Harry."

"I was referring to Peter at the time, but yeah, it got Moody hounding Snape for a few hours. Has Dumbledore mentioned Snape at all?" Harry asked.

"None. In fact, he did say that Snape might return to You-Know-Who, but he was very clear that all of us were to take him alive if we came across him because he could be 'redeemed.' I don't think he's letting anyone know Snivellus is already a spy for him."

"So obviously he's not mentioning the plan for letting Snape kidnap me."

"Obviously. I think a few of us might object."

The other meetings with the Order were mostly dead-ends. There was no way for Sirius to squeeze information out of Dumbledore regarding how Snape intended to kidnap Harry without looking like he needed to be locked up in St. Mungo's Mind Healing wing. He did manage to tell the story to Remus, who was now also going to help.

Harry did realize, however, that Dumbledore had mentioned the "sixth trial" as the best time to do it. The upcoming Trial of Champions was the sixth trial. He was supposed to be on the run from three other champions- and probably flee Snape as well? It would probably be better if he just let himself get caught by the champions quickly and stay in public view. Sirius wouldn't be able to protect him at such a public event, but Remus might be able to convince Shacklebolt to let him be part of the "security" at the tournament.

* * *

April arrived and Harry was completely unprepared. Sure, his tracking skills were at the level of a rookie auror's, and his secrecy spells were just as good- but it wasn't the trial itself he was worried about. He would have carried his father's invisibility cloak with him to further protect him from Snape, but that was against the rules, as explained by Mr. Bagman. He also wanted to simply forfeit, so he wouldn't be running off in the forest alone, but again, as per the rules, he had to at least make a token effort. One thing Bagman refused to answer was how exactly he would be punished for an infraction. Looking up the history books told him little, as cheaters had to undergo anything from simply forfeiting the entire tournament (which Harry was fine with at this point), to public shaming (fame was bad enough for Harry, and infamy was even worse), and, in one instance, death (which he was trying to avoid already). The Goblet, apparently, decided such matters. He decided it was best not to risk it, especially since it might be even more unpredictable as it was damaged by Crouch.

Sirius mirror-called him two nights before the trial. Apparently, Dumbledore had sent everybody in the order on a mission, and everybody would be busy on April 8th. The only person from the Order who would be there to come to Harry's aid would be Shacklebolt- who was assigned there as an auror anyways. His orders were to protect the audience first and foremost, in case Voldemort decided to make a grand entrance. Remus was ordered to travel to the continent, and Sirius, to his great annoyance, was ordered to stay home and out of sight.

"I'm telling you, Harry, this stupid house-elf is driving me insane. I want to just hang his head on the wall, but Dumbledore keeps saying that every life is precious and so forth..." Sirius rolled his eyes.

"SIRIUS! You can't possibly mean that! That's so cruel! I can't believe you just said that!" shrieked Hermione. Thankfully, being in the Room of Requirement meant that nobody else overheard her.

"You think Dobby's an odd house elf, you haven't met Kreacher. That's his life ambition, you know. Have his own head chopped off and hung on the wall. We can't let him do any work around the house or else he'll deliberately try to sabotage or break our equipment. Can't even have him cook food for us, because if I forget the slightest detail in the order he'll try to poison me. Can't even release him because he knows about the Order and would run straight to the Malfoys."

"Are you sure he's not just suffering from not having a master for the past decade?" Hermione inquired. "He's probably dying because of it!"

"No, he was this foul when I was a kid, although he was a little less insane. He was one of the reasons I ran away from home. If you wondered if a house-elf could be a pure-blood supremacist, Kreacher's your answer. Almost tried to kill Tonks at the last Order meeting until I ordered him to chew on his own toes until she left the house. Don't know what Dumbledore is thinking, keeping him alive."

Harry interrupted before Hermione could keep them away from the topic at hand any longer. "Can we get back to where everyone's gone? Did Dumbledore send anyone to Wales?"

"Hm... Elphias is hanging around London... Tonks is going to keep an eye on something in the Department of Mysteries... Diggle's patrolling the shores near Azkaban... Dung might be travelling to Ireland, but I don't think anyone's heading to Wales. Why?"

"Because that's where Snape and Voldemort are, probably. Dumbledore knows. I think he's sending all of you on foolish errands to keep the path to me clear for Snape."

Sirius gasped, but then quickly turned to a snarl. "I'm coming tomorrow, Harry. I'd like to give another go at little slimy Snivelley."

"NO!" Harry and Hermione both shouted in unison. "You can't get caught again, and the event will have plenty of security. Hold on, I'm going to explain to Remus." Harry ended the call to Sirius and called Remus on his mirror. It took a minute for him to answer.

"Hey, Harry. What's up?" A very tired-looking Remus showed up, inside a very tight room.

"Hey, Remus. Where are you right now?" Harry asked.

"Hello Professor Lupin," Hermione added.

"No need to call me Professor any more, Hermione. I'm on the new train to France... the, uh, lavatory of the train to be specific. You know the one that goes right underwater? It's hard to believe that muggles have managed this much, and I've gone muggle for a few years before!"

Hermione had obviously heard of it a lot, and so did Harry after staying with her last summer. The tunnel itself had been completed already, but it wasn't open to public while Harry was staying with them. The family talked a lot about taking the train to France after their fourth year- and Hermione was hoping that they might take Harry along as well. "Yes, Professor Lupin. I can't believe you get to ride it before me!" she said with a hint of jealousy.

"So, why the call? Do you know how hard it is to get any privacy at all in the Muggle world?" Lupin was whispering into his mirror now.

"We've just figured out why you're being sent to France, Remus."

"What? You could have just asked me. I'm going to contact some of the 'wild' werewolf villages and try to get a feel for the ranking structure, see if I can meet a few alphas. Hopefully find a few who aren't in the jaws of Fenrir Greyback, too."

"No, that's not it. Okay, that might be it, but you know that everybody seems to have a mission on April 8th?" Harry said.

"Yes... Dumbledore finally got us organized only a few days ago and immediately set out tasks for everyone..." Remus told him the obvious answer but his face showed that he knew there was more to it.

"And nobody was tasked to find Snape? Or search for Voldemort?"

"Charlie Weasley is scouting out parts of Romania and also travelling to Albania when he gets next week off. That's the most likely place for him to hide out for now."

Harry shook his head. "He's already in Britain. Has been since last summer, at least. Dumbledore knows, Snape knows, and their best guess is Wales. Nobody was sent anywhere near there, right?"

Remus paused in thought, unable to say anything, so Harry continued. "Can you be back in Scotland by tomorrow for the Hunt? I think that's when Snape is going to try to kidnap me. I could use a little extra protection, and Sirius still can't be seen in public."

Remus couldn't believe Dumbledore would condone the kidnapping of the Boy-Who-Lived. He was the paragon of all wizards, the one that everyone followed for advice. He'd never steered magical Britain wrong... at least, except when it came to Harry. Remus still wondered why Dumbledore refused to let his owls and letters through while Harry was growing up, or why Harry was with Lily's awful sister in the first place. If he was going to help Harry, Dumbledore couldn't find out, or else he'd send Moody after him. "Alright, Harry. I'll be back by tomorrow. Keep your mirror with you during the event- call me right away if you run into trouble. As long as Dumbledore doesn't see me there, I can just say my mission took a few days longer than I expected."

* * *

Harry was the most anxious of the champions as they waited inside the tent, but he didn't let that show. Nobody was talking to each other this time, curiously enough, especially since this was the one event that required them to work as a team. They didn't want to give away their hunting strategies before the hunted champion had left the starting line. They simply waited for Bagman to arrive and give them the final details, which he did after the audience had begun to arrive.

"All of you have a time limit of one hour to search for the hunted. You must disarm _and_ physically disable them- either through stunning, body-bind, or conjured shackles. When you've done that, send up green sparks and a referee will verify for you. Do you all know the spell for sparks?" He looked at Harry in particular, who tried not to roll his eyes. Making sparks from his wand was a first-year charm, which Flitwick taught right after _lumos_.

"Good. It's your job to make sure your prey is secure, because if the referee arrives and you haven't got anything to show for it, you will be penalized and the hunted champion will be rewarded. Now, on the other hand, if the hunted champion manages to turn things around and become the hunter, he can throw up green sparks if he has disabled all three other champions. This will, of course, reflect very well on your score if you manage it." Viktor's mouth grew to a wide smile that Harry hadn't seen since the wandless duels.

"To level the playing field... we are not allowing apparition in this event, especially since you may become more familiar with the various destinations as we will be reusing the playing field four times over. One of you is too young for an apparition license, anyways." _Apparition!_ Harry suddenly realized there was a common skill he hadn't brought back with him from his previous time-travel. He must have studied the core Hogwarts classes quite well, because even flipping through fifth-year charms, potions, and transfiguration textbooks felt like review for him now, along with a few of the basic runes. He had no idea how to apparate, unfortunately, and he was sure he would have learned such an important skill had he gained the opportunity. _Didn't I ever get to the lessons in sixth year? That's when students first get apparition training, don't they?_ Harry wondered. He nearly missed the end of Bagman's speech because of those thoughts.

"Lastly, to reiterate an old rule that is especially important in this trial, there is to be no communication with anyone who is not a champion or a tournament official during the event. The audience will be able to watch exactly what the three hunters are doing on our projection orbs, so the hunted champion can't know where his opponents are." Harry still carried his two-way mirror just in case he needed Remus's help. Technically, it wasn't cheating if he didn't use it- and he hoped he didn't have to.

Afterwards, they were all given a rough map of the area, showing them which areas were out-of-bounds. The entire area for the event was just under four square kilometres with the audience and starting area in the center- there would be plenty of spaces to hide, but a straight chase would leave them trapped at the borders in a matter of minutes. Harry was unfamiliar with the landmarks- it didn't appear to be anywhere near Hogwarts. After a few minutes of study, they drew lots to determine the order. Viktor was up first, and he was escorted outside to allow the other three to talk.

"I think we should stick together," Harry said immediately.

"Agreed," Fleur said. "I do not zink any of us can take 'im alone."

"Moving as one group means we'll have a harder time finding him. I'm glad one of us is good at tracking, then," Cedric said, smirking at Harry.

"Yes, I 'ave 'eard of your skill in tracking ze little runaway."

_Damn, even the French have heard about Malfoy?_ thought Harry. _I've certainly got a reputation to live up to now._ As they were brought out from the tent, Harry said reluctantly, "Alright, just follow my lead then."

All three of them waited at the starting line for their turn to begin the chase. Right when the signal flared, Harry cast a spell that lit up recent footsteps. It was a basic auror spell, with an equally basic method of countering it. Viktor, however, didn't know. His trail appeared clear as day, although he did stray from the main path after a few minutes, weaving in and out of the thicker brush. They easily followed the footsteps, but it was apparent to them that they were moving slower than their target. Fleur, especially, wasn't used to tramping through the thick brush.

"I thought you wanted to be a cursebreaker?" Harry joked.

"I... will... get used to ze sweat," Fleur bristled. "I will also get used to ze mess. But I will never, never get used to ze _insects_!" she cried out, swatting away a few bugs.

"I've got a spell for that," Cedric chuckled, clearly enjoying Fleur's struggle. He cast some sort of mosquito-repelling spell, which was kept most other insects at bay as well.

"Hey, Fleur, isn't it nice to have your knight protect you from all those pesky bugs?" Harry laughed.

"Tais-toi! Just keep casting zat spell," Fleur grumbled.

Harry kept his eyes open for any signs of Viktor, but was also on the lookout in case Snape showed up. He felt fairly safe with Cedric and Fleur at his side, even though the two of them weren't quite as on their guard as he was while just following the trail. About three-quarters of the way to the edge of the edge of the field, the footsteps took a sharp turn towards a hill. Casting the Shinestep spell one more time, Harry saw that, further down, they led back behind a pile of fallen trees.

"Uh... guys? I think he might be planning..." Harry managed to say just as a spell shot out from the hill. All three of them dove out of the way as dirt and wood splinters went flying. "I thought he was going to try to turn things around!"

"Can you see where he is?" Cedric shouted back from behind a tree. Three more blasting curses flew from behind a fallen log higher on the hill, sending more dirt flying and blocking Harry's view before he could get a better look.

"Somewhere by that log," Harry shouted. He blindly cast a few reductors in the general direction as Cedric ran forward, taking cover behind another tree closer to the hill. Fleur had already disappeared somewhere during the chaos.

Harry's reductors managed to break apart the log into smaller chunks, which Cedric banished out of the way, only to find nobody behind them. A barrage of cutting and bludgeoning curses came flying from behind some bushes. Both Harry and Cedric threw a bunch of curses back, but Viktor had already moved on. Harry ran up to where he'd last seen their target and cast the step-lighting spell again, but it was clear that Viktor had been moving around a lot in the past few minutes. They had no idea which set of steps was the latest one.

Again, Harry and Cedric found themselves on the defensive as Viktor launched yet another attack, this time banishing a large set of rocks from higher up on the hill towards them, followed up by another barrage of simple slicing and bludgeoning spells. The combination left them with very little shrubbery to hide behind, forcing them to dodge continuously. Harry managed to dodge all of it, but Cedric got hit with one of the bludgeoning spells on his leg.

"Shield me while I heal this!" Cedric shouted. Harry jumped over to Cedric, putting all his energy into holding a basic _Protego_ while Cedric cast a first-aid spell on his leg, which was probably broken, but not too severely. Through the translucent shield, Harry could finally see exactly where Viktor was now firing from. He was straining under the barrage of Viktor's spells, but fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who you asked) he was also aware that Fleur wasn't with them, so he wasn't concentrating fully on taking out Harry.

A sudden streak of the stunning spell's red light flew from twenty meters to Viktor's left straight towards where he was standing. To Harry's dismay, Viktor turned just in time to shield himself from the spell, and immediately launched himself towards where Fleur was hiding.

"I'm going to help out Fleur, can you move yet?" Harry asked Cedric.

"Go, go! I'll only be a few seconds behind you," Cedric said, still working on completing the crutch spell.

Harry ran towards the duel between Viktor and Fleur. Fleur's grace on the duelling arena was clearly lost in the uneven ground of the forest, causing her to stumble dangerously several times while dodging her opponent's spells. Harry had just begun casting a chain of stunners, disarming charms, and itching hexes (he needed to find a better spell to chain, but the wand movements linked up well) when Fleur was hit by a stunner from Viktor, who immediately turned to face Harry.

Viktor had come to respect Harry more and more over the course of the tournament, and at this point, his "respect" meant that he wasn't holding back anything. Harry immediately found himself being hammered by spells that would overpower his shield quickly, forcing him to dodge. Knowing this, Krum had decided to cast bombarding, blasting, and flame hexes, which had effects that were hard to avoid even if Harry managed to dodge the spells themselves. He was battered and bruised, falling unconscious after being thrown into a tree by a very close bombardment curse before he even managed to get close to Fleur.

* * *

"_Enervate! Aguamenti!_" Harry found himself hit with both the revival spell and a splash of water, bringing him to full wakefulness immediately. Cedric was standing over him, and he was still in the woods. Fleur was a bit dazed and shaken, but awake as well.

"I've got him distracted with a few transfigured animals, but they won't last long. Let's move! We've only got ten more minutes to catch him!" A loud blast sounded nearby. "And I think that was the last of them. Come on!"

Harry wasn't quite willing to go through yet another fight against Viktor so soon, but as the other two were determined to complete their task at hand, he couldn't just sit back. They ran towards the last sound of battle, only to find that Viktor had fled. Fighting continuously against three opponents had _finally_ tired him out, unlike his performance in the duels. That wasn't to say he couldn't cast any spells any more- he had transfigured several of the bushes in the path into very thorny briars, slowing them down. He'd also figured out that his opponents could track him very well (although he wasn't aware it was Harry's talent) and resorted to slowing them down instead of hiding from them outright, running along the more defined trails and throwing obstacles in the way.

As they fought their way past fallen logs, more thorny bushes, caltrops, and even a small fire, the prospect of actually catching up to Viktor was looking more and more desperate. The footsteps led to a small cave, where Viktor had clearly barricaded himself inside. All three of them immediately set to blasting the rocks away until they heard a loud klaxon sound. Two tournament officials swooped down on brooms, declaring the first round completed.

The three of them were too tired to cry out in frustration, but interestingly enough, even Viktor emerged from his impromptu fortress unhappy. Obviously, he had two of the three champions stunned and had just barely lost the chance at receiving a perfect score via turnaround. Evidently, he wasn't very proud of the fact that he had only won by hiding until the last minute, even though the other three champions would have been perfectly happy with that victory.

All three of them were escorted straight to the medical tent. They had an hour's rest- just enough to get patched up by the mediwitches while several wizards worked to repair the damage they had done to the landscape in their battle. Cedric, who was quickly healing from his minor fracture earlier, was the next champion to go, so he remained in the medical tent while the others were shuffled back to champions' tent.

"Vat spell did you use to follow me?" Viktor asked them they stepped inside.

"Ehh... I'll tell you after I've had my turn as the hunted champion..." Harry replied nonchalantly. "Can't give away all my secrets now, can I?"

"You verr the one who vas doing the tracking? I vas under the impression it vas Cedric," Krum said, surprised.

"'Arry 'ere seems to be a champion of many talents... eet seems to me zat ze Goblet could 'ave picked him anyways, eef zere was no age limit."

Krum only grunted and nodded, but smiled in acknowledgement.

_Wow, this is pretty nice. All of the 'official' champions are saying I'm a worthy component? Maybe if I could learn a few other tricks I could really give them a run for their money,_ Harry considered. "I'll try the tracking spell again against Cedric... hopefully he hasn't figured out how to get around it," Harry said.

His chance to prove himself again came quickly as Cedric was fully healed on time for the next round. Ten minutes after the Hogwarts champion left the starting line, the other three took off with Harry in the lead. The tracking charm worked perfectly as they followed his trail for a few minutes into the thick wood, but soon ran into a problem. At one point, it seemed that Cedric had stopped and stomped around for a while, and there were about four different trails leading away.

"Vich one do we follow?" Viktor asked, annoyed.

"Wait, let me recast the spell... hopefully it'll be more sensitive," Harry said. He did so several times, trying to narrow down which was the latest set of tracks, but as far as the spell showed, all the tracks were made within a minute of each other. _How was that possible?_ Harry wondered. "Let's not waste any more time... we can just pick one and follow it," Harry said.

"Perhaps we should spleet up and each can travel down one path?" Fleur suggested. Harry would have agreed, but given how he was still wary of being kidnapped.

"Err... I'm not sure if I could take him alone if I do find him," Harry said. It was embarrassing to admit his weakness in front of the other two, but thankfully, Fleur agreed.

"'E is a better dueller zen me as well. Perhaps the two of us shall travel togezzer, and Viktor can search in ze ozzer direction," she suggested. Viktor agreed immediately, taking off in one direction and using his own spells to track down Cedric. Harry and Fleur continued using the Shinestep and followed one path that appeared to have moved the most quickly, with more distance between strides. It only took a few minutes for the two of them to spot some rustling in the bushes in front of them- just to be safe, both of them cast disillusionment charms over themselves as they continued forward. When Harry got close enough, he released a few stunners and heard something drop to the ground.

They didn't catch up to Cedric. Instead, they found themselves looking at a deer with its front hooves transfigured into shoes. _Wow, this spell is even less reliable than I thought_, Harry realized. He did have to admit that Cedric did do some pretty impressive animal transfiguration, but was more in awe at how Cedric could have lured three or four different animals to him to make all those extra footsteps.

"Shall we search ze ozzer paths?" Fleur asked.

"No, he can probably transfigure another animal any time. I'm going to try a different spell. Don't cast any spells, Fleur." Harry moved on to a variant of the Trace spell, which registered magical signatures and detect when magic was cast. It had its own weakness, of course- much like the regular trace that was cast on underage wizards, it could track magic cast by a particular wizard, but was very error-prone if there were other wizards near them. Unlike the trace, he didn't have to cast the spell on Cedric himself, but he did need a lasting example of his spell-work- and the transfigured deer's hooves gave him enough to work with.

"Now what?" Fleur asked.

"Now we wait," Harry said, shrugging. The spell would only activate the next time Cedric used his wand. They decided to walk back to where the paths split as they waited. Fleur decided to chat with Harry a little to pass the time.

"I 'ave a leetle sister who is a fan of yours, 'Arry," she said in an off-hand manner. "She will be 'ere for ze grand finale of ze Tournament- could you take ze time to talk to 'er?"

Harry sighed. What was it with younger sisters being the fan of the Boy-Who-Lived? "Um... I'm not sure what I could say to her. I've never liked being famous, you know."

"Oh, you do not 'ave to say much. She does not speak Eenglish, but she is learning. She is cheering for you as much as she is for me, ever since ze wandless duels." Fleur sighed, but with a smile on her face.

"Only since then? What did I do?"

Fleur glared at him, making him nearly trip over some tree roots. Upon seeing Harry's bewildered and innocent expression, she said, "You made me lose my temper." Harry finally remembered when he got her stuck in the mud and slime of the portable swamp, making her transform.

"You don't like turning into the bird form?"

"It is... ugly. I do not enjoy it."

Harry didn't think the Veela girl could ever be considered ugly by anyone, but he even considered the avian transformation to be rather beautiful. The feathers were the same colour as the silvery-blonde hair in her human form, and they looked large and graceful- it reminded him of a swan, in fact. Had she been wearing long, white robes and a halo, she may as well have been an angel in disguise. Apart from the bird-like face and the swamp muck, of course. The words that came out of his mouth weren't so eloquent, though. "Your other form isn't ugly. It, um... has a good colour. Nice feathers."

Fleur laughed at this. "Gabrielle thinks so, too, but she 'as not experienced it. It is ze emotions, zey are so rough and... uncontrolled. Ze anger, it takes over and it feels barbaric. Uncultured, zat is ze word I am looking for."

_Uncultured. Well, she does come from a fairly well-off family in France, and she already does some modelling on the side_. Harry could understand why Fleur abhorred the return to baser instincts. "Why does your sister want to see you transform, then?"

"She finds eet funny. And she says eet is quite beautiful. I let 'er pluck one of my feathers last year, but zat was ze last time I transformed for 'er. After zat she 'as been pulling my 'air and spilling my ink and jumping on my bed to test my temper. She is a very annoying leetle sister, but I love 'er so."

Harry wanted to ask her more about what it was like having siblings- Hermione didn't have any insight, while Ron's six siblings was rather unusual. Unfortunately, Harry's wand let out a small burst of light that shot out to their right. "Looks like Cedric's finally done something. Let's go!"

As they ran, his wand gave off a few more bursts, although the lights weren't as bright, nor did they travel as fast. It looked like something was interfering with the tracing spell- most likely, Krum had found him and they were duelling. They could hear the cracks and booms of spells hitting rocks and trees in the distance as they sped up. Unexpectedly, he heard Fleur fall down behind him. He turned to see another streak of red flying towards him. The shock made him slip and fall, causing the spell to streak overhead, narrowly missing him.

Harry immediately cast a flare spell in the general direction, hoping to blind his opponent. Whoever it was, he was almost certain it wasn't Cedric. He threw up a shield and scrambled over to Fleur to revive her, keeping his eyes open for another attack. She was just waking up as another spell flew towards him, but he managed to block it just in time.

"Fleur! Disillusion yourself! Someone's attacking us!" Harry shouted his orders to her.

"Someone? Don't you mean Cedric?" She asked groggily. Another spell glancing off Harry's shield woke her up to the situation, and she quickly disguised herself. Harry didn't have time to explain that it was actually Snape, but as long as Fleur knew there was someone attacking, it worked out fine. Harry disillusioned himself and moved in the opposite direction.

He returned fire on the spells with several hard-hitting hexes of his own, but saved his strength for when he could actually see his target. He fired off another flare and moved to a different hiding spot. A few seconds later, another set of spells came flying in his general direction. _How did he see me? _Harry wondered desperately. Thankfully, Fleur provided some distraction from the other side, launching an attack of her own. _Screw the rules, we need help. _ Harry used the distraction to pull out his mirror and was just about to call Remus when the klaxon sounded again, signalling the end of the round. He heard the pop of disapparition just before the officials swooped down to retrieve him and Fleur.

* * *

"I may not haff needed your help, but some teamwork vould be appreciated," Viktor said as they were sitting in the medical tent.

"We were fighting! Cedric, did you use some sort of doppelganger spell? Or illusion? No... wait, you really stunned me," Fleur explained, although she herself was confused about what had just happened.

"Me? No, I was busy with Viktor here for the last ten minutes until he finally took me down," Cedric said. "Are you sure you didn't get hit with a Confounding trap? I set a few of those with the second set of my human-footed animals."

"We stopped following footsteps after we found the deer," Harry told him. "I used a different spell to track you after that. Hold on, I need to talk to someone."

Harry left the medical tent, being the least injured of the four of them, and pulled out his mirror again. "Remus. Remus, are you there?"

"I'm in the stands. I saw what happened, Harry. The judges thought it was an illusion by Cedric. Are you sure that was Snape?"

"I'm fairly certain. I think he's waiting for when I'm alone, Remus. When it's my turn to be the hunted, he might just try to snatch me in the first ten minutes before the others even start looking. Can you do something about it?"

"I'll try to sneak into the woods, Harry. Stay hidden in the area of the northern edge of the lake. If anything happens, I'll be nearby. It should only be about three minutes' run, right around the back of the stands. If you really have to, just run back to where the audience can see you. I don't think Snape will try anything with over five thousand witnesses."

"Thanks, Remus, I-" The mirror was suddenly snatched from his hands by a referee.

"Mr. Potter, the rules were quite clear that communication with people outside the tournament was forbidden," the man told him sternly.

"Bagman only said that we couldn't communicate during the event itself- we're on a break period right now, aren't we?" Harry pleaded.

"No, Mr. Potter, the time in between the actual hunts is still considered part of the event. I could consider this a miscommunication, however, so your penalty this time will only be a ten-point deduction for this event. A future infraction, however, will be subject to the Goblet's decision."

Harry started to protest, but the referee was already making his way to the judge's table. He didn't want to escalate it any further, and he certainly didn't want to know what the Goblet was capable of doing to him. He'd lost his only lifeline for now, but hopefully he could lure Snape to Remus when it was his turn to be chased.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I always wondered what it would be like to have a little sister. I'm sure Harry does as well.

- Gabby is one of my favourite fan-developed characters, besides Luna. In canon, she barely even registers as a background character, but I've read a few good fanfics that use her. I always thought Harry could use a character that he could treat as a little sister.


	36. The Hunt, Part 2

**Author's Notes:**

- Rowling herself was sued for using the word "muggle" in the Harry Potter books.

- I've put up a HP writing challenge on my profile. If you've seen any good fanfics that use that idea, point them out for me.

* * *

**Chapter 36: The Hunt, Part 2**

Harry marched up to the starting line, studying the map that Bagman had given him, making sure he knew multiple routes to reach Lupin. As soon as he received the signal, he ran only a few steps into the woods, still partially in the view of the audience, and cast every concealment spell he could think of. Disillusionment, Ghost-walk, silencing, and even a scent-dispelling charm helped him move through the forest unseen, unheard, and unsmelt. The only trace of movement from him was when he brushed against the foliage and the ghost step spell ensured he left no footprints.

_I hope this counts as my token effort_, Harry thought as he went almost straight back towards the starting line. It seemed that his spells were working as the referees couldn't even see him as he walked past. Keeping his pace at an easy jog so that he wouldn't tire himself out, he circled around the stadium. A few people might have noticed a slight shimmer at the edge of the woods, but it would be hard to see even if they knew what to look for. Harry didn't particularly care if they did notice him, as he was preoccupied with looking into the woods to make sure he wasn't being tailed already. As he reached the other side, he knew it would only be a short jog over to the lake, where he could meet with Remus. Now, the question was, should he leave the safety of being close to the crowds, or head over to find his former professor immediately?

Harry decided to make his way over to the lake, but not make contact just yet. He didn't want to incur the Goblet's wrath, but he needed to know exactly where Remus was waiting. Taking a deep breath, he marched deeper into the woods. As he marched onwards, his heart pounded harder and harder despite keeping an easy pace. He kept pausing and pointing his wand at every little movement in the woods, fighting the urge to just turn back.

Somehow, this was even scarier than going into the forbidden forest- even including that time in first year when he had to go in there at midnight for detention. Perhaps it was like the old saying- what you don't know can't hurt you. Harry never really understood that, because whenever he didn't know what Dudley's gang was going to do to him, it hurt a lot. On the other hand, what you didn't know couldn't scare you. At least, not really. He hadn't known what he was going to find in the forest back in first year, and his imagination wouldn't have made up some evil ghostly spirit drinking unicorn blood. This time, _knowing_ that someone was hunting him, and not for a competition, was far more unnerving.

The lake came into view within minutes, but it had felt so long that Harry was surprised it still wasn't time for the other champions to start searching him. It didn't take him much longer to see the shores of the lake. Harry ducked down by a fallen log, staying as still as possible as he scanned the area. Thankfully, he spotted Remus about two hundred meters away, lurking around the trees. At least he knew where to run, now. With Remus in sight, he decided to simply stay where he already was, and erected a couple more defences- a large notice-me-not ward, repulsion ward, and an intrusion ward to warn him if anybody stepped nearby. He also recast his disillusionment and silencing charms before settling down and waiting.

Another movement in the trees caught his eye. With a shield charm at his fingertips, he turned to see it was just a squirrel. _Just a little animal, _he thought with a sigh of relief. _Wait... these wards don't affect animals... do they affect animagi?_ He was pretty sure that Snape wasn't an unregistered animagi, but would he have Pettigrew's help today? Or was he just paranoid? Sitting alone with nothing to do gave him a lot of time to think about the possibilities. _Maybe Barty Crouch will be here too? How many other allies has Voldemort recruited by now? Would he really risk sending out his most loyal servants before he's returned to a fully human body? Is this why Hermione keeps using all her spare brainpower to worry so much?_

He took another look in Remus's general direction. The man was still there, waiting. Good. More movement from the woods- just a little coyote. A bird sailed over the lake- an osprey, Harry realized, just like what he would be if he ever figured out that damn transformation. For a tournament task, it was actually pretty relaxing, sitting out by a lake, under the protection of several wards and concealment charms. _Maybe I can use this time to figure out my animagus form a little. How did Hermione do it again?_ he wondered. Another movement out of the corner of his eye made his heart skip a beat. He couldn't see what it was this time. _Damn, what am I thinking? Constant vigilance, Harry!_

He heard another rustle- and his intrusion ward was activated. Someone was definitely trying to get in, but Harry still couldn't see who it was. He saw another ripple of movement in the air like the shimmering waves off a road on a hot summer's day- except it was still April and he was in the middle of a forest. Keeping his eyes on the distortion, he could clearly see that the repulsion ward was working, but the notice-me-not ward wasn't. Whoever it was was very determined to walk straight towards him, even if the repulsion ward made them change direction.

There was always the possibility that it was just another competitor. Fleur or Cedric. Viktor would have just launched a few powerful spells to flush him out of hiding. What were the chances that it was actually Snape? _Very high_, Harry told himself. He had to run to Remus for help. He recast his sneaking charms again, and when the intruder tried to penetrate his wards again, he launched a flare spell to blind them.

Harry darted out of the woods and ran down the shore as fast as his legs would take him to where he'd last seen Remus. As the flare spell ended, Harry ducked behind a tree and quickly recast a repelling ward. He was halfway to where Remus was waiting, and turned to make sure his pursuer hadn't seen him. The flare spell appeared to be more effective than Harry had anticipated- it seemed to have overloaded the invisibility cloak, which could barely be counted as an invisibility cloak any more. It simply changed colours, in patches of green and brown, looking similar to muggle camouflage, but far easier for Harry to keep track of.

_Maybe I could stun him..._ Harry thought. He didn't want to give away his position so easily, though, and at this distance there would be plenty of time to dodge the spell. If he wandered closer, though, Harry would be ready. To his surprise, the man didn't even look around to find out where Harry went. He looked down at something in his hands, and then immediately began walking straight in Harry's direction.

_That's impossible!_ Harry thought. _Nobody cast a tracking charm on me recently..._ Just to be safe, he discreetly scanned himself for binary tracker spells, ones which were normally used to keep track of captured criminals and sent out a magical signal to a homing device. There were none- or, at least, none that he knew how to scan for. Dumbledore _had_ mentioned some kind of device to Snape that would track Harry. The only other way, of course, was tracking by blood. Given how Dumbledore had access to him as a baby, there were plenty of opportunities for the old man to get a sample of his blood. Heck, the number of infirmary visits would have been plenty. Harry was certain the man was Snape now.

_Screw the tournament, I need to get rid of Snape, fast._ He let off a few stunners, some piercing hexes, and another flare spell to blind Snape as he ran towards Remus. Thankfully, Remus had noticed the commotion and realized it was Harry, coming out of his hiding place with his wand out.

"Harry? Is that you?" he shouted.

Harry dispelled his disillusionment. "It's Snape! He's here, and he's tracking me somehow. I need your help!"

"Where's your mirror? You should have just called me instead of running around in the open."

"Confiscated. I just blinded Snape again. He should be by those trees," Harry said, pointing.

"Don't worry, I see him. Stick together. He won't be able to handle the both of us at once. You concentrate on the offensive, I'll stick to the counter-curses and shields."

"You sure? I can throw up a pretty decent shield..."

"I've always been better at defense than offense, Harry. It's better if I back you up. Now let's get him."

* * *

At the judge's table, the Goblet of Fire released a puff of black smoke.

* * *

Remus maintained a shield for Harry, who cast a few stunners, but they came out with a weak, dull red colour instead of the more familiar bright, glowing red that Harry was used to. Snape, who was still recovering from another blinding flare charm, was hit by one of them- but he didn't drop. Seeing Harry and Remus together, Snape hesitated for only a second before deciding to flee. With a pop of disapparition, he was gone.

"What were you trying to hit him with, Harry?" Remus asked.

"_Stupefy_." Harry looked at his wand.

"_That_ was a stunner? Wait, cast it again. And say the incantation this time," Remus told him.

"_Stupefy!"_ Harry cried out, casting the spell at a tree. This time, the spell was slightly brighter but still off-colour.

"You wand movements are right, incantation was perfect," Remus said in his Professor Lupin tone. "Were you hit with anything by Snape?"

"No, I don't think so." Harry couldn't explain any more as the klaxon signalling the end of the round sounded. They both spotted two of the referees making their way over to him.

"Sorry, Harry, I can't let Dumbledore find out I've been here. Tell them what you saw; maybe you can get tournament security to keep an eye out for Snape." With that, Remus disapparated, leaving Harry to wave down the referees.

When they arrived, they didn't look pleased in the least. "Harry Potter, who was that you were talking to?"

"I can't say, but he was helping me-"

"So you admit you had outside help? That's a clear violation of the tournament rules!" the referee shouted.

"If you'd let me finish," Harry said in a low voice, "He was defending me against a _kidnapper_."

"Nobody's trying to kidnap you, Mr. Potter. The only place you're being taken is in front of the judges' table. Kidnapping, really. You need to think up better excuses."

"If you're not going to take me seriously, then I need to talk to someone who will. Take me to tournament security," Harry demanded.

Ten minutes later, he was facing the judges and not the aurors.

"Tell us, Mr. Potter, why did you ask for outside help during an event? That is a blatant violation of the rules, and as such, the Goblet has decided to seal your wand," one of the English judges told him.

_So that's why my spells aren't coming out right,_ Harry realized. Facing the judges with a defiant look, he said, "There was someone who was trying to kidnap me. He made his first attempt during Cedric's turn, stunning Fleur from behind and then attempted to take me as well."

"That was merely a doppelganger spell, Mr. Potter. We were rather confused as well, but Albus Dumbledore confirmed it for us."

_Dumbledore. Of course, making excuses to help hide Snape. _"Did you bother to ask Cedric about it?" Given the blank looks by the judges, Harry assumed that was a no. "Cedric himself said he didn't know about that attack, and he doesn't know that spell. Maybe you should look into it?"

"Yes... well, Mr. Potter, there is still the issue of your own infractions..."

"I called the other man here because he would be willing to help me fight against Snape, not the other champions."

"Snape? As in your former professor Snape?"

"Yes. And I want to talk to security," Harry demanded again. Another ten minutes later, he finally had two aurors at his side- Shacklebolt and Bigsby, both of whom were regularly stationed at Hogwarts. Shacklebolt was an Order member, Harry knew, but the man didn't know Snape was working under Dumbledore's orders. It could still work, he hoped.

"Snape's trying to kidnap me," Harry said bluntly. "My... uh... friend was helping me defend myself against the man.

"You saw him? You believe that man has turned dark?" Shacklebolt asked. He didn't push further about Remus, probably because he assumed it was Sirius that had helped Harry.

"Turned dark? He's always been dark. Moody was right. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater."

"And what would his motive be?" Bigsby asked.

Harry began to say, "Vol-" but was quickly cut off by Shacklebolt.

"Fortune. Harry Potter will control a large sum of money when he comes of age. There's always the possibility of another dark wizard putting a price on the Boy-Who-Lived's head. And you remember what a pain in the arse he was at the castle, Bigsby." The aurors nodded to each other. "We'll keep an eye out for him, Mr. Potter."

After the two of them left, Harry asked the judges, "Can you restore my wand now? Obviously I didn't call for help to win the tournament, just to keep myself safe."

"Sorry, Mr. Potter. The Goblet's decisions are final. We don't control the cup; it makes its own decisions. If you're lucky, the effects should only last until the tournament finishes."

"WHAT?" Harry's jaw dropped. Looking at the wand in his hand, he felt a shock of anger race through his body. That stupid cup had arbitrarily decided he was cheating and sealed his wand? They _hoped_ it would be restored at the end of the tournament? Harry had hoped that he would just be completely disqualified from the tournament, or maybe just lose all his points. The cup had, instead, given him a punishment that would affect his life outside the tournament. Whose stupid idea was it to pull that cup out of whatever dusty bin it had been lying in for the past few centuries? Glaring at the judges, he stormed away from the table.

* * *

"Dumbledore, Fawkes might have some problems," Shacklebolt told the old wizard. That was the code for issues that could involve the Order of the Phoenix.

Dumbledore nodded. Pulling out a muggle pen out of his pocket, he held it out to the auror. "Portkey to my office," he explained. When they both grasped it, Dumbledore tapped it with his wand and they were whisked to Hogwarts.

"Now, you were saying?"

"Harry Potter believes that your former Potions professor is trying to kidnap him, quite possibly to take him to You-Know-Who. Two attempts so far today. If he's trying for a third, then he doesn't have much time."

_I never expected Severus to let Harry slip out of his grasp_, Dumbledore mused, picking up a candy from his desk. "Very well, Kingsley. I'll alert a few of the other available Order members. Tell the tournament security that they will be receiving a few more reinforcements for the rest of the day." With a silently cast stunner, Shacklebolt ended up on the floor of the office. He chuckled merrily to himself before adding, "Oh, silly me. It seems my old age is catching up to me. Why did I bother telling him all that? Severus is the one that needs to know."

Plucking a hair from the auror, he began writing a short missive to Snape and stuck the hair to the parchment. "Fawkes? I have another delivery for you to make," he told his phoenix.

Fawkes turned around on his perch, facing away from Dumbledore, and ruffled his feathers.

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't understand why you've been so temperamental these past few years, my old friend." He went to fetch one of the owls from the Hogwarts owlery instead.

* * *

"...and then they told me I still have to compete." Harry was explaining his story to the other two champions, as Fleur had left the tent early for her round.

"Look, Harry, it's not that I think you're a cheater, but... Snape is really out to kill you or something? I know he was quite the arsehole to everyone outside of Slytherin, but does he really have a personal vendetta against you?" Cedric asked.

"Yes, he hates me personally. Hated me before I ever met him," Harry confirmed, recalling his very first Potions class.

"Whatever for?"

"My dad teased him when they were in school," Harry explained. _When did I find that out?_ he wondered. He did remember seeing a memory from Snape's perspective... but he didn't remember ever breaking through Snape's occlumency.

"That's one hell of a grudge."

"I'll say. I mean, I hate Malfoy, but I wouldn't take it out on his children. Especially a decade after his death. Snape was never right in the head, and now he's lost his job, for which I'm sure he blames me as well. Anyways... even with the extra security flying around, would you mind if I stuck close to one of you?" He looked back and forth between the two other boys hopefully.

Viktor wasn't speaking to him. He was still somewhat unconvinced that the Goblet had made such an egregious error, being able to recognize the interference of one intruder but not the other. He was of the opinion that Harry, perhaps even subconsciously, wanted Remus to help him win the event as well. If there was one thing he didn't appreciate, it was unsportsmanlike conduct, especially after losing the Quidditch World Cup.

Cedric, looking doubtful that Krum would invite Harry to run by his side, said, "Stick with me, then, but I don't know how useful you'll be without a properly working wand. Just don't get in my way, alright?"

"Hey, my eyes and ears still work, even if my wand doesn't. I can still help."

"Good luck seeing through her disillusionment. We all know how much she loves that spell."

"As much as she loves using the allure against you two? Am I still the only one who can resist her completely?"

Cedric closed his mouth immediately, looking abashed. "I've gotten a bit better."

"Yeah, well, even in the end, I might have to tackle her to finish off this round. Between the three of us, if I can't use my wand and you two can't use your brains, this will be a real uphill battle."

"Alright, you've made your point. Just drag me away from Fleur if she starts making us act up, alright?" Cedric looked somewhat defeated, but Krum had a knowing smile on his face. Evidently, he was much more confident- and he probably trained his occlumency much more ever since he had lost his duel against Fleur. Obviously, the allure did nothing to help her against Krum during the wandless duels, so he could probably resist her by now.

After Fleur's ten minutes were up, Krum went off on his own, following his own tracking methods. Cedric asked Harry, "Can you still cast that footstep spell?"

Harry tried it out- the spell came out far weaker than before, only showing the tracks three steps away before the light faded. "Nope. I could teach it to you, see if you can get it right. The incantation is _Osteniter_, and the wand movements go like this-" Harry demonstrated for Cedric.

Cedric tried out the spell several times before anything happened. When he finally got it right, the ground in front of him lit up with every little human and animal footprint that had been made for days. Harry added, "It helps if you concentrate on the size of the person's feet and if you have a good guess when they came by. The more you can narrow it down in your mind, the easier it is." They wasted another ten minutes before Cedric managed to cast the spell passably and they had a good trail to follow.

"So, what was your plan if I couldn't teach this spell to you?" Harry asked.

"Transfigure a rock into a bloodhound and get it to track her by smell," Cedric said.

"What does Viktor do?" Harry asked, never having seen what the Bulgarian usually did.

"Something similar, except he uses a hawk to spot them from the air, I think. That's how he found me, at least."

Harry chuckled to himself. No wonder his round was so peaceful and quiet- at least, until Snape showed up. He'd warded himself against sight, smell, and footsteps. They must have been wandering every which way looking for him. "Did Fleur try anything?"

"Yeah, when both of our methods turned up nothing and we regrouped, she did this odd scrying ritual."

"Did it work?" Harry asked doubtfully. He was never much for Divination; at least, not the way Trelawney taught it.

"It just said that you were near water, but it wasn't much more precise than that. We started to head towards the lake when the klaxon sounded. Was she right?"

"Yeah, I was sitting right by the shore. So Divination isn't totally bunk? She hasn't mentioned anything about having the Inner Eye, does she?"

"What? No, the stuff Trelawney talks about is all bollocks, from what I've heard. There's no point in teaching a subject that can't be learned. Trelawney's just a bad teacher. You have to be born as a seer or an oracle, but divining and scrying are skills you can learn."

Harry didn't know Divination was actually a subject worth studying, especially after so many of Trelawney's ramblings of her "Inner Eye" and the vague, useless predictions she often made. Then again, if he had to judge a subject by its professor, Potions would have seemed pretty useless too.

They continued to follow the footsteps again until the path split. "Looks like she copied my idea," Cedric said, but thankfully, the new set of footprints didn't match the originals exactly, so they knew which path to follow. Fleur didn't waste more time with that spell if she couldn't perform animal transfiguration perfectly, as there were only one extra set of footprints. A bit further away, as they reached a clearing, the footprints began changing shape, and then disappeared completely. Harry didn't think Fleur knew how to cast the Ghost-walk spell, or else she would have used it from the beginning.

"Wait, recast the shinestep again, but make it broader," Harry told Cedric. When he did, it showed a few more footprints where Fleur's feet continued to change shape before they disappeared completely. Cedric understood what Harry was thinking.

"She changed to her avian form!" Cedric laughed. "I didn't think she'd resort to that. She refuses to transform in front of me."

"Or for her sister," Harry added. Seeing Cedric's inquisitive look, he said, "What? Her sister's a fan of mine. Get her to explain it. Anyways, how do we follow her now?"

"Fleur mentioned some spell you used that tracked a magical signature like the Trace. Care to teach me?"

"That spell took weeks for me to learn. I wouldn't be able to teach it to you in the... twenty-five minutes we have left to find her. Maybe you should transfigure yourself some dogs? If she's so reluctant to be a bird, maybe she didn't fly very far."

"Good thinking, Harry." Cedric transfigured a large rock into a bloodhound, who sniffed at the last few tracks Fleur made. Cedric then sent it off across the field, searching for where she had landed. He made more and was up to seven dogs before getting tired. The large pack of dogs managed to pick up her scent again in minutes, leading them back into the forested area again.

The transfigured dogs didn't last very long, so Cedric had to recast the shinestep spell to continue following the trail. They eventually reached a spot where Fleur had apparently run around in circles, making a mess of the tracks. Viktor was already there.

"Hey, Viktor. Have you found her?" Cedric asked.

Nodding silently, Viktor put a finger to his lips and pointed towards a narrow gully downhill from them. He motioned for Cedric to go first. After casting silencing spells on everyone's feet, they crept nearer. Cedric had to ask Viktor to point out where Fleur was a few times, having difficulty telling exactly where Krum was pointing without speaking to each other. As they began to circle around a tangle of roots that could have hidden Fleur, Viktor lagged back, staying behind Harry.

_Why's he hanging back now? He's usually the first to charge in and blast everything in sight,_ Harry wondered. He turned to shoot Viktor an inquisitive look just in time to see him pull out his wand- but it wasn't his wand. Harry immediately saw it wasn't the distinctively-shaped, thick, hornbeam-white wand that Krum used, but a much more straight and slender wand of a deep red colour. Fleur's wand. Harry realized what was happening.

"That's not Viktor!" he screamed at Cedric, spinning and batting her hand away. He did it just in time to disrupt her aim as a turncoat hex went flying wide to the left of Cedric. The bright light shocked Cedric into action as he immediately shot a series of stunners and disarming charms at Fleur. She shoved Harry away from herself while dodging Cedric's spells. With her cover blown, she stopped maintaining her glamours and began to duel with Cedric.

Harry tried to cast a few spells of his own to help out Cedric, but none of his spells were strong enough to even harm a chipmunk. Instead, he re-sheathed his wand and ran straight towards Fleur, who was completely surprised at the very un-wizardlike action. Harry dodged the crossfire from Cedric and managed to grab Fleur from behind, pinning her wand-arm to her body. "What are you doing? Stun her!" Harry shouted as Cedric temporarily stopped casting.

The little pause gave Fleur just enough time to do the only thing she had left. She blasted her Veela aura to full power just as Cedric cast a stunner at her. She fell limp, falling back onto Harry, who ended up cushioning her fall as they both hit the ground. He gently rolled her off of his body and said to Cedric, "Send up the green sparks, Cedric."

"Huh? What are you doing with Fleur? Oh, my love, my sweet, you're hurt! Let me help you..." Cedric said dreamily. Harry's jaw dropped as Cedric began to cast an _enervate_ on Fleur. For Harry, even in direct physical contact with Fleur when she turned her aura up wasn't a match for his occlumency, especially since it had only lasted a second. Cedric was probably still feeling the effects for a minute even though Fleur had been knocked unconscious.

"No... no! Not now!" Harry cried out. Without enough time to get up and stop him, Harry grabbed Fleur's wand out of her hand and launched the last two spells of the Dueller's Hello. To his surprise, the _petrificus totalus_ worked, causing Cedric to stiffen up like a plank, but the _incarcerous_ just conjured some light cord instead of ropes. Temperamental wand, indeed- but Harry was happy that it worked at all. _Huh, I guess the Goblet really did only bind my wand. I guess that means I'll have to buy a new one before the next event... but does that mean I'll have to go through another Wand Weighing?_ he wondered as he conjured the green sparks with Fleur's wand.

"Harry... could you release me from the body bind, please?" Cedric had finally recovered from the effects of the aura.

Harry smirked as he cancelled the spells. "Aren't you glad I came along now, Cedric?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot. I can't believe I almost woke her up again. That aura of hers makes me damn stupid sometimes. You've got to teach me how you resist it, Harry."

"No problem... heck, you might even want to ask Neville how to do it. He's getting fairly good at it, too."

The referees arrived to pick them up, along with some aurors. They confirmed that Fleur was unconscious and disarmed, and then explained the extra security. "The aurors are working under the assumption that somebody _was_ attempting to kidnap Harry Potter during the event, so we had a few extra reinforcements brought in an hour ago. Each of you will ride back with one of the aurors."

The auror captain Shacklebolt said, "You're riding with me, Potter. Get on the broom." Harry handed Fleur's wand back to her and got on behind the man.

"So, have you got any leads? Do you know where Snape ran off to?" Harry asked as they flew low, just over the treetops.

"No. The investigation is still ongoing. Perhaps if you would tell us who was helping you so we could question them as well. Was it Black?"

Harry was surprised that Shacklebolt would ask about Sirius, but then remembered that they were both a part of the Order of the Phoenix. "No, it wasn't Sirius. I asked him to stay home. Didn't want him to get thrown in Azkaban again."

"You're being quite stubborn, Potter. Tell me again how you knew it was Professor Snape that attacked you?"

"I saw him."

"You saw his face?"

_What's with the mid-air interrogation?_ Harry wondered suspiciously. "Yes. I did."

"You're lying, Potter." Shacklebolt spun around on his broom, looking Harry straight into his eyes. Harry felt the distinctive pang of a legilimency attack and immediately brought forth his full shields. He immediately retaliated against the intruder with his mental starship, blasting away at the intruder. Deciding not to stop there, he pushed even harder and tried to penetrate Shacklebolt's mind. What he saw when he pushed forward was a desolate wasteland, a mindscape that was a small town filled with burning buildings and broken streets. He didn't know where to continue his attack, but as far as he had come, he could feel pure loathing emanating from one of the houses. It was a loathing that distinctly reminded him of the glares that Snape would give him every Potions class.

"That's as far as you go, Potter. The servant returns." The keyword activated a portkey, and with a tug on his navel, Harry was whisked away.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- it has been brought to my attention that Shacklebolt is bald (Thanks, PK Fan). Consider the hair that was plucked to be an eyebrow hair. Let's not consider the other possibilities.

- I've featured Fleur in this story a lot, more than the other two champions, and it's not (only) because she's hot. In canon, she does get more development than the other two (well, Cedric dies and Krum just goes away mostly) but Fleur stays in the story and fights for the Order. She's also the most interesting character anyways- she's the only female contestant, presumably beating out all the boys at her school (even though the film made it look like Beauxbatons was an all-girls school) and the fact that she's the only part-human out of them all. Cedric, I think, is not much more than the good, hardworking student, and while Viktor is already a working professional, he doesn't have much of an impact on the characters other than making Ron jealous.


	37. Memory is Power

**Author's Notes:** Harry Potter lawsuits have made little girls cry.

- Some people have mentioned how Snape is supposed to be a really powerful fighter. I don't recall him being especially strong at all. In the war, he was a spy- that takes good occlumency and acting skills (I guess my Snape's lost his temper more than he should). Professionally, he was a potions master. One of the few courses that doesn't even require a wand. He messed around with Dark Arts as a teenager- which, to be honest, has nothing to do with actual duelling skills. Despite inventing spells and wanting the DADA position, it doesn't mean he's actually good in the field. As an analogy, a person can be a great mechanic and wants to teach a shop class, but that doesn't mean they're a good race car driver. I recall, in canon, a duel against Lockhart (no skill required), killing Dumbledore (by consent), and dying to Voldemort.

* * *

**Chapter 37: Memory is Power**

_Potions master. Polyjuice potion. How could I not see this coming?_ Harry berated himself. Snape, still polyjuiced as Shacklebolt, had quickly shoved Harry to the ground after they arrived. Not that Harry needed any help falling down after taking a portkey. He was about to pull his wand, but remembered it wasn't even working properly. Within a second, ropes came from every direction and his arms and legs were bound and he fell to the floor. From the ground, a quick look around the room told him that anything he tried wouldn't have mattered- Wormtail, Barty Crouch Jr., Snape, and Voldemort all had their eyes on him and wands in their hands.

Harry hadn't ended up inside some cave- at least, it didn't look like a cave any more. Dark lords like Voldemort would never stand to live in a cold, dark, and _plain_ hideout for very long. The formerly-human dark lord had used his magic to carve out the chamber into something akin to a throne room, complete with a throne in the middle. The skull-and-snake motif of the dark mark hung from large banners at the back of the room. Burning torches lit up the entire chamber with magical green flames. Voldemort himself was sitting directly in front of him on the throne, petting his basilisk. Harry couldn't get a good look at him, though, as the shadows obscured most of his features.

If he wasn't hog-tied on the floor in front of dark wizards, Harry would have let a smirk appear on his face. Voldmort was being so cliché! If Voldemort hadn't been such a muggle-hater, Harry would have thought that he got the inspiration from children's morning cartoon decoration guidelines for evil secret lairs. Voldemort probably thought he was being original, too. Had the situation been less serious, Harry would have been inclined to stick his wand into the air and call upon the power of love to transform into a super-hero. Unfortunately, the people in front of him weren't joking. He was realizing that there was no way he'd be able to get himself out of this situation. At least he could get some humour out of it.

Wormtail was as meek as ever- but not to Harry. He sneered at Harry while staying behind the others, hiding in their shadows. Was this how he acted during his school days? Did he simply stand behind and taunt other students behind the Marauders' shield? He certainly seemed to enjoy being in the position of power. It was an interesting conundrum for the pudgy, rodent-like man. He wanted to have power over others, but he could only do it with the help of someone stronger. Then when he received their help, be it James Potter or Voldemort, he was too meek to step to the forefront in fear of angering his ally. He would forever be forced to follow, despite his desire to dominate.

His parents' betrayer was the least of Harry's worries. In front of the man was Barty Crouch Jr. It was the first time Harry got a good look at the man's face. He was completely unlike his father, despite having the same name. Where Crouch Sr. kept himself neat and tidy with a trim moustache and held himself stiffly, his son was unkempt, slouching, and made no effort to reign in his emotions. He was also very restless, fiddling with his wand continuously. On his face, he had some sort of scope over one eye, but it was flipped out of the way. He laughed wickedly at the sight of Harry on the floor in a way that Pettigrew would never dare.

"Well, lookey here. The little baby traitor actually managed to do it," he hissed at Snape.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Snape snapped back at him. "Potter is an idiot of a boy. He was no challenge."

Crouch Jr. laughed at Snape. "Yeah, the little idiot managed to keep you off his trail for the entire round. I was watching, you know. Saw him run all the way around the grandstands. He was practically standing in the open for five minutes just taunting everyone. You had no clue where he was!"

Harry blanched when Crouch said that. _Even the officials didn't notice me sneaking around the stands. How did Crouch see me?_

Unlike at Hogwarts, here Snape kept his cool with the other Death Eater. "I knew exactly where he was, despite his _many_ wards and charms. I was merely waiting for the right opportunity to strike."

"Speaking of which, what was that little device you got there, Snape? Let me have a looksee."

"You think I would just hand it over?"

Voldemort stood up from his throne, causing the other two to instantly end their argument and stand at attention. He stepped forward from the shadows. It was then that Harry finally noticed the grotesque body Voldemort was inhabiting. It was approximately human in shape, but evidently fashioned from a multitude of other magical materials. He had a human head, but it was being kept alive through some sort of magical life-support system built into the body. The face was expressionless and completely pale- in fact, it was probably drained of blood. His eyes, in contrast, were blood red. They didn't blink the entire time Harry stared at him. The body looked more like a torso-shaped cage, at the center of which was a beating heart, clearly too large to be human- probably from some kind of magical beast. Threads ran from the heart to the head and right arm, the only parts which were (or used to be) alive. The left arm and the legs seemed to be under their own power, probably charmed to move like a broom. The threads pulsed with a dull glow to the beat of the heart- probably channelling some kind of magical energy to keep him alive. Despite all appearances, Voldemort was capable of moving quite purposefully and confidently. It was a body constructed for function, not form. Harry was so disgusted with the figure before him that he almost failed to register the Frankensteinish golem of a man speak.

"Let Crouch have the toy, Snape. With this little act you are on your way to redemption, but you still have much to account for- especially your defection to Dumbledore."

Snape quickly knelt down, bowing his head low. "I apologize, my lord. Here it is- a tracking device of Dumbledore's own devising. I snatched it from his office. Acquiring Potter's blood at Hogwarts was a fairly simple task, and that has made the device capable of tracking Potter through any wards known. I only sided with Dumbledore so I could better prepare for your return, my lord, and to turn Dumbledore's knowledge against him." He handed the tracking device to Voldemort, who tossed it to Barty.

"You? Turn Dumbledore's knowledge against him? What could you possibly know that he hasn't simply allowed you to know?"

"It has allowed me to snatch Harry Potter from under his nose, my lord. I have also made a discovery pertaining to him... perhaps it may help rectify my mistake many years ago." Snape looked up towards Voldemort hopefully.

"I have little patience for excuses..."

"I have learned the full prophecy, my lord. The one I delivered to you was... incomplete. The full prophecy is as follows: _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... The power shall save the boy from the Dark Lord thrice... his continued life will be Dark Lord's demise._"

Harry stared at Snape, noticing the alteration to the prophecy. Of course, nobody else realized why he was looking so confused. _That's not what it's supposed to be, _he thought. _Wasn't it something about "must die by the hand of the other?" Of course. Fake prophecy so that Voldemort would kill me. Dumbledore couldn't afford Voldemort misinterpreting the prophecy... the one Snape told him was very clear-cut. If Harry faces him again, Voldemort wins forever._

"You've left me with quite a dilemma, Snape. I have only faced him twice, and he has only defied me twice. Now you tell me that I must kill him, but this unexplained power will protect him once more? I am not a gambler... I prefer my victories to be hard, swift, and _guaranteed_."

Snape hesitated- he was about to tell Voldemort some news that could be taken very badly. "My lord... you _have_ faced him thrice already."

"Tell me, what is this third encounter? I have been recovering ever since his power banished me from Quirrel's body in my attempt to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone."

Snape was extremely fearful now. He was consciously telling himself to breathe deeply and evenly, and still his breaths were shaky. "A year after that encounter... you... returned. In a different form. You revived the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets but young Potter here stopped it." He paused momentarily, then added, "He returned from the Chamber of Secrets with... a book... pierced by a basilisk fang."

Voldemort roared in anger, pointing his wand at Harry. The threads between his wand-arm and the heart pulsed dangerously. "Tell me, Potter. How did you get your hands on that book?"

Harry wondered what he could do in this situation. He was tempted to reveal how much he knew about T. M. Riddle, but angering Voldemort wouldn't be very productive. _How can I use this?_ he wondered. _Could I just lie and say that never happened? It obviously never showed up in the news..._

"Snape's lying. Just some story to get me some more fame after my friend's little sister went missing. If that prophecy's true, I'll defeat you one more time." Harry wondered if he had just made Snape's day by lying _and_ claiming to pad his reputation at the same time. He hoped for the best, but nothing would be going his way today.

Pettigrew chose that moment to speak up. "He-he's lying. It really happened. His best friend wouldn't stop talking about going down to the chamber afterwards. All summer long. His little s-sister woke to the sight of a defeated ba-basilisk. She spoke of it often to her mother and in her nightmares," he recounted.

_Stupid stupid stupid! _Harry thought. How could he completely forget about how Pettigrew had spent another summer inside the Weasley home? Ron did like to boast about their adventures, but Harry could have passed it off as exaggerations. He'd forgotten completely about the time Pettigrew had spent with Ginny, which was the clincher. He didn't have much time to punish himself for the bad decision, because Voldemort did it for him.

"_Crucio_." Harry felt the pain all throughout his body. Every possible sensation was taken to its limit- burning, freezing, crushing, tearing, stabbing- he was feeling every possible pain at once. He was released after a few seconds, but it was enough to lose his train of thought. Realizing that more of this could seriously damage his mind, he reinforced his occlumency. Voldmort didn't wait for Harry to recover completely. "That is only a small sample of what you will feel if you lie to me again, Potter. Now tell me, how did you get your hands on the book?"

_Found it in a toilet, and that's the truth,_ Harry thought, knowing that wasn't the answer he was expecting. "Found it in the Chamber of Secrets. It was feeding off the life of Ginny Weasley."

"You found the Chamber of Secrets? And you banished me as I was reviving myself with that mysterious power of yours like you did the year before?"

Barty looked up from his tinkering. "Could be why we never saw the boy demonstrate anything special throughout the tournament. He's used up all his secret talent!"

_This could be my only way out,_ Harry thought. "It hasn't saved me three times yet," he announced loudly. All eyes in the room turned to look at him, so he continued. "The power didn't banish your spirit in second year. I stabbed it with a basilisk fang. You weren't strong enough to attack me at all. I can still defeat you one more time."

"That boy is an arrogant buffoon. He thinks he could slay a basilisk without help from the powerful, prophesized magics," Snape sneered. Even in the presence of Voldemort, Snape could still find the courage to speak out of turn and insult Harry. Harry wanted to retort, but arguing with a Death Eater in the presence of other Death Eaters wasn't the wisest thing to do.

To his surprise, Barty made his argument for him. "You're a little slimy weasel that jumped ship, Snape. The last time you didn't get all the information, you ended up leading the Dark Lord to defeat. I don't think you're reliable at all, Snape. You say the boy's nothing, but you couldn't even get past the basic wards to snatch him, even with this interesting little trinket," he said, twirling pieces of the device in his fingers.

"I'm a potions master... not a cursebreaker," Snape muttered in reply.

"Which is also _not_ a beast master. So tell us, Potter, how _did _you slay a basilisk without help?"

Harry realized then that the truth, combined with Snape's fake prophecy, might actually save his life. "I did have help. From a phoenix. It flashed in with the Sword of Gryffindor. It pecked out the basilisk's eyes, and distracted it. In fact, he did most of the work, really. I just landed the finishing blow by stabbing it in the head." He omitted the fact that he stabbed it in the head from inside its mouth, and the fact that he'd received a bite from its poisonous fangs. He didn't want them to believe any sort of magical "protection" had been activated in the fight.

"The sword of Gryffindor? Even with the sword, you... destroyed the book with a fang from the basilisk itself?"

_Damn. Barty was a perceptive one,_ Harry cursed. He'd forgotten to account for that little detail. "I stabbed it pretty deep... and when it fell, it pushed the sword into its own head even deeper. It did manage to knock one of its own fangs out of its mouth in the thrashing, though, so I picked it up to destroy the book."

"That's enough." Voldemort said. His face didn't show expressions very well, but Harry could hear the anger and frustration in his voice. He obviously didn't like hearing about one of his horcruxes destroyed. "Once again, your information is incomplete, Snape. You could have set back my rise to power if the boy wasn't so... cooperative." He turned to Harry with his piercing stare, scrutinizing him. He was suspicious of Harry's willingness. The crutiatus probably helped, but even he was expecting Harry to be more Gryffindorish than to break after only a few seconds.

"It appears he is destined to defeat me one more time," Voldemort said slowly.

_I hope this is a good thing..._ Harry said.

"Moving rashly to kill him could activate the power once more. It would appear to be best to keep him alive for now..."

_YES! _ Harry was thankful for the small victories he could get.

"...but I cannot risk Dumbledore or another finding and rescuing him. He could have more of those tracking devices. We need to end his life sooner rather than later."

_NO!_ Harry knew that Dumbledore wouldn't send the order to search for him anyways.

"Barty, what are you seeing from the eye? Have they begun searching for him yet?"

Barty flipped down the scope and peered into it for a few moments before answering. "Dumbledore's meeting with the aurors. All of the Order members who are also aurors are there. Ooh, this doesn't look good. Potter's girl just barged in and she's pointing fingers. Never mind, they dropped her. Heh."

_He's seeing this in real time? That's happening right now?_ _I thought it was an informant... the spy's not human? It's some device..._ Harry looked at Barty. With the scope flipped down over his eye, it was reminiscent of Moody's own magical eye. Then it hit him. Barty hadn't hung around Hogwarts just to modify the Goblet of Fire. He did it to modify Moody's magical eye. He saw everything Moody saw.

"Looks like most of them want to mount some kind of rescue effort. Nope... wait and see, says Dumbledore. No leads. Looks like you made a clean getaway, Snape. Congratulations."

"Then I shall force his final encounter with me while we still have time," Voldemort concluded. "Stand, boy. We are going to duel."

_Excuse me?_ Harry wondered how Voldemort jumped to that conclusion.

* * *

Hermione was relieved when she saw Harry hit Cedric with the body-bind and send up green sparks. There were aurors in the air to escort every one of the champions back to the champions' tent to await their scores. Snape had run out of chances for today. She pulled out her mirror and called Harry. Even after several minutes there was no answer. _What? Why's he not picking up? Did something happen to him?_ She immediately called Remus on his mirror.

"Professor Lupin! Harry's not answering his mirror! The trial just ended and he should be fine and he promised me that we'd talk right after it ended just in case we could catch Snape in the act..." she said in one breath.

"Whoa, whoa, Hermione. Slow down for a second. Harry doesn't have his mirror on him- an official caught him with it sometime after Cedric's turn and he got it confiscated. Don't get so excited, he'll be back in a few minutes."

"But what if someone got to him just after the trial ended? What if he let his guard down for a second and got nabbed right before the judges arrived?"

"Then he would have to go through Shacklebolt to do it. I know the man. He may be loyal to Dumbledore but he'd never condone selling Harry out to Voldemort. Before I left, I heard him addressing his auror force. He's watching Harry like a hawk."

"Really? That's a relief, I guess... but I won't be satisfied until I'm holding him in my arms again."

"I doubt you'd be satisfied with just that, Hermione," Remus joked. "Sorry, but I have to go. The rest of the Order is expecting me to be somewhere in Germany by now. And don't call me 'Professor' any more!"

After putting the mirror away, she calmed herself down and waited. She certainly had to congratulate him- he'd performed admirably despite the Goblet's ill-informed decision to seal his wand. She even felt that he deserved most of the credit for Fleur's defeat. Viktor had succumbed to a stunner in the back when Fleur used her glamours to disguise as Cedric. It was only Harry's lightning-quick reactions that saved Cedric from falling to the same trick.

Viktor was the first to arrive, having been stunned far away from the others, he was already being watched by a referee when the round ended. A few minutes later, Fleur and Cedric arrived. They were looking confused and speaking to some of the aurors. Where was Harry? He was with Cedric and Fleur- why weren't they back yet? Hermione began to panic again when she saw the aurors' movements become frantic and one sprinted to the security tent. The rest of the crowd had also noticed the commotion and the lack of Harry Potter. The people began to get restless, but only because the scoring wasn't to start until all the champions were present. She called Remus again.

"Prof- Remus! Harry's really gone!"

"What? It's only been three minutes since you last mirrored me, Hermione. Are you sure?"

"Yes! All the other champions are back and Harry's missing! The aurors are running around down there... we have to do something!" If she had gripped her mirror any more tightly, it would have cracked. Remus tried to calm her down.

"Stay right there, Hermione. I'm coming back. And whatever you do, don't tell Sirius for now. He'll probably do something stupid like challenge Dumbledore to a duel in the middle of the street." He ended the call immediately. Hermione couldn't wait, though. She leapt out of her seat and rushed down, only to be stopped by security guards.

"Where do you think you're going, missy?" asked the burly man.

"I need to talk to the aurors. Harry's gone missing, hasn't he?"

"That's none of your concern. Now head back to your seat."

"It's every bit my concern! I'm his girlfriend! I'm worried about him! And we need to get him back before it's too late!"

"Too late? You know something, missy?"

"Yes! Now let me through!" Hermione impatiently tried to push her way past the man only to be lifted right off her feet.

"Not so fast. You're coming this way."

She ended up inside yet another small interrogation room in the security tent, waiting for someone to finally come by. After waiting what she deemed to be _far_ too long, an auror finally stepped inside. Perhaps it was coincidence, but it was the same auror who questioned her on New Year's. Hermione only hoped that it would go better this time.

"Hello again, Miss Granger. We seem to be having you in our chatting parlour pretty often these days," said Auror Rutgers.

"Harry's been kidnapped, wasn't he? Your captain Shacklebolt was involved somehow," Hermione said, getting straight to the point.

"How did you know that?" Rutgers was surprised because ever since Harry's turn during the trial, the news of a kidnapper had been kept quiet from the general public. As far as everyone knew, the extra security was only there because there was only an "intruder" without any explanation of their intentions.

"So he _has!_ So why did Shacklebolt do it? I have a friend who says he's not the type to participate in kidnapping... You tell me and I'll tell you what I know."

_How does this girl know so much? _Rutgers was bewildered, completely unprepared for the questions that Hermione was asking. He had been expecting things more along the lines of "Oh, is my boyfriend okay? When will I get to see him?" Instead, he was faced with a girl who probably already knew more than he did and was determined to solve the investigation herself. "Alright, I'll let you know that our captain did _not_ kidnap Harry Potter. We believe it was a polyjuiced imposter. We just found the captain, stunned, in the woods."

"Then it was Snape, and Harry's... he could be dead already..." Hermione let the realization hit her. Harry could have been killed as soon as he was taken... or worse, he was being tortured by Voldemort. She nearly broke down in tears at the thought.

"Forgive me for being so callous, but how do you know this? We have only Mr. Potter's word that it was the former Potions professor, and he hasn't had a chance to speak to the public yet..."

Hermione had hoped that she would have stronger evidence before she implicated Dumbledore, but with Harry in trouble, there was no time left. "I overheard a conversation while Snape was still at Hogwarts. It was after he'd already been sacked but before he actually left the school. He was plotting to kidnap Harry and take him to... Vol... uh, some dark lord on the rise."

"That sounds rather far-fetched, but I'll look into it. Who was he speaking to? Was it over the Floo, or was there another conspirator at Hogwarts? If there's other people involved, then it might not be Mr. Snape." Rutgers jotted down her accusations on a piece of parchment.

"He was talking to Dumbledore. He specifically recommended the sixth trial, today, as the best day to kidnap Harry, and it happened! It has to be him!"

At this point, Rutgers looked from his notes to Hermione, and back to his notes again. "Dumbledore? You _are_ talking about Albus, your Headmaster and Chief Warlock, right? Not his brother Aberforth?" Even that suggestion seemed highly unlikely to him. Aberforth, who much preferred a quiet life running a tavern in Hogsmeade, still fought bravely against Voldemort and helped shelter people in Grindelwald's time.

"Yes, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore!" Hermione shouted angrily. She wasn't normally one to lose her temper like that, especially since she knew Rutgers only believed what she herself believed two months ago, but her patience was running thin. "I overhead him in his office, talking to Snape about sacrificing Harry to earn Snape a place in Voldemort's inner circle!"

Rutgers rubbed his forehead. First Dumbledore, and now You-Know-Who? He was dead, and nobody wanted to think about him again. "You-Know-Who. You're saying he's still alive, and that he didn't die thirteen years ago?"

"YES! You have to let me talk to everyone! We need to organize a rescue effort for Harry!" Hermione banged her fists on the table and stood up, unable to wait any longer.

"Alright, alright. The rest of the aurors are in an emergency briefing right now. I'll see what I can do." Rutgers had to admit the story was crazier than he could even imagine, but he'd learned over the past few months that nothing was ever normal around Harry Potter and his girlfriend. First was some kind of allergy to squash cider that led to some kind of muggle disease, then it was a rescue through an acromantula-infested forest for his own worst enemy... and now it was his own headmaster plotting against him?

He escorted Hermione to another room in the tent, where most of the aurors, other than the ones who were still on patrol outside, were meeting. To her dismay, Dumbledore was at the front of the room, addressing everyone.

"Ah, hello, Miss Granger. I'm glad you could join us," Dumbledore said jovially. "I assure you that we are doing everything we can to find Harry Potter at the moment."

"Are you really?" Hermione yelled at him. "You want him dead! You sold him to Voldemort!"

That got everyone's attention. They stopped and stared at her, and a few gasped when she said the V-word. Rutgers cleared his throat and explained in a much more respectful tone, "Miss Granger here claims to have overheard a conversation between yourself and Mr. Snape regarding today's disappearance of Harry Potter..."

Dumbledore's eyes locked on to Hermione's. "I have not spoken with Severus since he left the castle, Miss Granger. And yes, while Voldemort is currently striving to rise again-" Several more gasps came from around the room. "-we cannot strike if we do not know where he is."

"You've been in regular contact with him! You gave him one of your own tracking devices! You know exactly where Snape's taken Harry, and exactly where Voldemort is hiding right now!" Hermione shrieked. She flicked her wand into her hand, but being in a room full of aurors, it wasn't the best course of action. She was stunned instantly.

* * *

"...With the necessary precautions, of course." Harry's hopes of turning tail and running during the duel were dashed. "Snape, I will need an unbreakable vow from you. Immediately."

"My lord?" Snape was surprised at the request. An unbreakable vow right now could ruin all his plans to spy for Dumbledore. He was as good as dead if he couldn't prove his loyalty. That was the entire purpose of delivering Potter! Was all this for nothing? Doing his best to keep his voice steady, he asked, "What is your request, my lord?"

"You will swear that, in the event that this body is once again destroyed, you will allow my soul to possess your body until another replacement has been created."

Snape knew what had happened to Quirrel last time. The man practically rotted from the inside out and had to drink unicorn blood to last the school year. This didn't bode well for him, but how could he possibly refuse a direct request from Voldemort himself? "My lord... Would Wormtail not serve just as well? I can then brew the potions you will need for a quick recovery..."

"Which you can still perform despite my possession, Snape. Wormtail is far too weak; I will not inhabit the body of one so meek when there are others to choose from. Now swear. Crouch shall be our bonder."

Barty began the ritual for the unbreakable vow as Voldemort and Snape clasped hands. Harry wondered if it still worked with an artificial body. Voldemort's right arm looked like it was ice-cold, and given the little shiver Snape made when they locked hands, Harry guessed it was about as pleasant as touching a corpse.

"Do you, Severus Snape, pledge to allow my spirit to take possession of your body should my present body be destroyed?" Harry and Snape both noticed that he hadn't set any time limit, but the man had no other choice but to agree.

"I do," came Snape's reply. Barty tapped his wand over their joined hands and a magical, flaming chain wrapped around both of their arms, fading as the vow took hold.

"Crouch, Wormtail, you will know what to do should the worst happen. The boy is not to survive." Turning to Nagini, who he had left coiled up on the throne, he gave her orders as well. _~Should the boy live after I fight him, you will kill him immediately.~_ Harry didn't even need to know Parseltongue to understand what the serpent was going to do.

A duel with Voldemort, then two other wizards and a baby basilisk. Harry struggled against the ropes to no avail. He still had his wand. His partially-functional wand. Voldemort, amused at his struggles, levitated Harry with a lazy wave of his wand and spun him around onto his feet. "Let us begin, Harry Potter."

"Aren't you going to untie me first?" Harry asked.

"Now why would I want to do that?" Voldemort sneered at him while Barty and Wormtail both laughed. This was something even Snape was going to enjoy. He cast a spell that forced Harry to bend over at the hips. "First, to begin the duel, we bow like so."

Harry resisted as much as he could, causing him to only tilt forward slightly. He concentrated on trying to get his wand out of his holster. He, along with everyone else in the room, knew the wand was effectively useless, but he had to try _something_.

"You seem to think you can fight this. No matter how great your power is, Potter, it won't save you this time." Voldemort immediately cast a spell at Harry, who could do nothing but duck out of the way. "Keep running, Potter," Voldemort laughed as he cast several more spells in quick succession. Harry was nearly losing his balance hopping from side to side. The ropes weren't getting any looser despite his struggles.

_I can't keep dodging forever,_ Harry thought. _Maybe I should just give up now and wake up in the past... even if I could read his mind and dodge everything, the others would just finish me off._ _Read his mind?_ Harry thought to himself. Would Voldemort even bother occluding his mind against Harry? Maybe he could get some useful information out of Voldemort's head before he died, at least. Nowhere to run, so he couldn't escape; no wand in his hand, even if it barely worked; and still tied up, so he couldn't even punch Voldemort. There was nothing left to for him do. He decided to risk it.

"Hey Voldemort! Are you secretly a little girl? Why was your _diary_ so precious to you?" Harry thought up the best insult he could to get Voldemort's mind on his horcruxes. It worked.

"You dare mock me, boy? The secrets I uncovered, the discoveries I made, the power I put into that book were more than you could ever dream of achieving!"

Harry hit him with the strongest legilimency attack he could muster. He found that Voldemort's mind was relatively unprotected and disorganized- perhaps it was because he hadn't inhabited a real body for years, or maybe because he was out of practice, having no real human contact for just as long. Harry pushed in as quickly as he could, blasting down Voldemort's defences. There was no time for subtlety. He latched on to the fear- more specifically, the fear that something had happened to his other horcruxes. Harry pulled himself deeper into Voldemort's mind as fast as he could.

Voldemort was shocked by Harry's sudden legilimency attack that he stopped his spellcasting. "Stop... stop it! What are you looking... no... How do you know about...? Nagini, leave!" He accidentally addressed his snake in English in his panic. _~Nagini, leave!~_ he repeated. Harry could see Voldemort's heart beat faster as his anger rose. For the first time, he had truly lost his temper and blasted a massive, destructive spell at Harry, finally breaking the connection.

The spell was powerful enough to knock a hole through the wall, blowing Harry out of the chamber. Voldemort's own body was smoking and burning, evidently overloaded by the magic he had suddenly put into the spell. He collapsed on to the ground, with all the wooden parts of his body falling apart. With only his right arm and head left intact, he yelled, "Go after the boy. Make sure he's dead! Destroy him, destroy his body, I want no trace of him left to find! Crouch, you can repair my body later. Go!"

All of them ran to the hole in the wall, which opened up to the side of a sheer cliff. They looked out just in time to see Harry's body fall into the lake below. Getting blasted straight through several meters of solid rock and then falling half a kilometre straight down, they doubted the boy was alive at all. Not intending to disobey direct orders, they apparated down to the shore and prepared themselves for a cold, underwater search just to make sure.

* * *

"Revive her... I wish to know what has corrupted her mind so thoroughly. The Hermione Granger I know was always quite respectful of authority and knowledge..." Dumbledore said, approaching Hermione. He knew that nobody could have overheard his conversations with Snape in his office. While nobody knew the castle as well as the Founders who created it, he certainly knew his own office was secure. The Founders wouldn't ever give up the security of the school to a student, after all. However, her accusations irked him. _Severus knows how to keep secrets. He could keep his mind occluded from Voldemort himself. My office is secure. Her rambling was far too accurate to be random, though. Perhaps she's a diviner of some sort? _he wondered.

Dumbledore never liked the entire realm of divination. It always had people pulling secrets out of the woodwork or blurting out orders from some otherworldly source that invariably ruined his plans like a pepper-popper in his potion. When Trelawney gave her prophecy during his interview, he knew he had to keep her close at hand for the rest of her life. Thankfully, she was such a horrible teacher that few students would be able to learn the arts of divination themselves. How ironic it was, then, that it was the one student who had dropped the class last year that he suspected of having a natural talent for divination.

Hermione awoke to find herself already restrained and her wand taken away. Dumbledore told her, "Now, Miss Granger, what gave you the idea that I am responsible for Harry's disappearance?"

"I heard you talking. I was eavesdropping on you. Accidentally, the first time. Afterwards, not so much," Hermione growled.

"Let us suppose you did hear such a conversation. Where were you when you performed said eavesdropping?"

Hermione didn't answer. She didn't want to give away the knowledge of the Chamber of Secrets, nor could she if she did.

"Are you not answering because you can't, or wont?" She stayed silent. "Very well, let's move on to another line of questioning. Did you see me speaking with Severus?"

"...No." Hermione was reluctant to admit it.

_Well, that rules out her being a Seer, at least_, Dumbledore thought. _And she certainly isn't an oracle or a prophetess. Let's try another angle._ "Did you take any potions before you heard what you did?"

_Is he implying... drugs?_ Hermione was disgusted with the idea. "No! Of course not! I'd never do such a thing! I know it was you, Dumbledore. Stop trying to weasel your way out of it!" The muttering in the room grew louder, finally reminding Hermione that there were others watching her.

"She's getting agitated again. If we don't calm her down..." said one of the aurors.

"She just keeps saying the same thing over and over... Dumbledore's responsible for everything," said another.

"I know, right? The headmaster's responsible for the students in general, but you can't expect him to protect all of them all of the time..."

_I knew it_, Hermione thought. _Nobody would choose me over Dumbledore._ Still, she kept a defiant look as she faced her headmaster.

"My dear, it seems that you may be under some kind of spell, and combined with the disappearance of Harry Potter, it has caused a slight sense of paranoia. It would be best if we sent you to a mind healer. They may need to perform some mental probing and obliviation, but it will be with your own good," Dumbledore said. _Perhaps if we made her forget about Harry Potter completely, she would recover quickly. After all, we don't even know if we will find a body after all this is over, so I can't even offer her closure if she remembers._

Hermione panicked at the word "obliviation." Her memories were precious. Her knowledge was precious, and so was Harry. She was going to lose both of them if she stayed here any longer. She might even lose her memories of Harry. One of the aurors put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, but she interpreted it as trying to restrain her. She quickly transformed into her animagus form, skittering between the legs of everyone in the room and was out of the tent before the surprised occupants even realized what she'd done.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Don't you just hate it when the evil villain just lets the good guy go, assuming he will die? _ All right guard, begin the unnecessarily slow-moving dipping mechanism!_ I prefer an Dark Lord who's at least a little more competent than that.


	38. Knowledge is Deception

**Author's Notes: **

- I would like to become a billionaire while getting millions of kids to enjoy reading.

- More Snape debate! A few people have pointed out that Snape did, in fact, duel fairly well against Harry in his escape in HBP. Remember, Harry had just returned from being nearly drowned by zombies during an overnight adventure. He also just saw his friend, mentor, and most powerful ally die. Snape didn't want to hurt Harry, so he only cast defensive magic as he escaped. So, less-than-good-shape-Harry vs. putting-up-an-act-Snape isn't exactly the best way to judge his skills in battle.

- Let's talk about Sirius, too. I know the crowd loves Sirius, but he was only around for a short time, unfortunately. I just don't think a man can spend 12 years in a happiness-sucking environment, one year feeding off rats and garbage, and then get his soul nearly sucked out of his body without a few mental issues as a result. I'm surprised he's even capable of being cheerful and friendly any more. Unfortunately, my Sirius won't be Harry's saviour any time soon, although he will be a good friend.

* * *

**Chapter 38: Knowledge is Deception**

Hermione hit the ground running after taking the portkey back to Hogwarts. She only had a few minutes inside the castle before all the staff, ghosts, and portraits were alerted to her presence. "Stalking Prey," she panted out when she reached the Fat Lady's portrait.

"What's the rush?" asked the pudgy painting as she swung open. Only a minute after Hermione was inside did another portrait visit her and inform her that the entire castle was on alert, looking for the girl who she had just let into the tower. Professor McGonagall was alerted immediately.

Meanwhile, Hermione was shoving everything she owned into her trunk haphazardly. As soon as she was packed, she closed, locked, shrunk, and levitated her trunk behind her. As she made her way back down, she heard a commotion outside the common room. The Fat Lady was explaining to someone else that she had just seen Hermione. Unable to get out the front door, she rushed up the boys' stairs and burst into Harry's dorm.

"Hey, Hermione. What's going on?" Neville asked. "Isn't Harry supposed to be at the tournament thing right now?"

Neville's question struck her painfully in her heart. The last few minutes, the fear of her own safety had kept the pain of Harry's disappearance suppressed, but the casual mention of his name brought the grief back. "Harry's been kidnapped!" she cried out. She began to cast the same spells on Harry's trunk as she had on her own.

"Wait, that doesn't mean you have to leave, too!" Neville tried to calm her down. "Just wait for the aurors... tell Dumbledore! Going off to save him on your own is... well, it's more Harry's style, to be honest."

"DUMBLEDORE?" Hermione shrieked. "He's the one responsible! He just gave up Harry to Voldemort!"

"That's stupid!" Ron shouted from across the room. "What book did you read that one out of, Hermione? That story's worse than one of Ginny's nine-knut novels!"

"Yeah, Dumbledore's always favoured Harry... now you're saying he wants Harry dead?" Dean added, slightly more politely. After hanging out with Ron much more over the past year, Dean and Seamus had begun to see that Dumbledore really _did_ favour Harry, not Gryffindor as a whole- but they didn't really mind as much as Ron did.

"Uh... I don't usually agree with Ron, but I have to say that does sound pretty far-fetched. Professor Moody trusts him, and you know he'd barely trust his own mother," Neville told her in a neutral tone. "You're sure-"

"Yes, I'm sure," Hermione snarled. She'd learned to ignore Ron normally, but he still got on her nerves. "He wants to obliviate me because of it," she added, grabbing Harry's broom from under his bed. Hearing the some shouting from the other side of the wall, she guessed that Professor McGonagall and the prefects were searching in the girls' side of the tower. Opening a window and mounting the broom, she said, "I've got to go."

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? That's a professional broom! You can't just read about those things and think you can handle one of those!" Ron exclaimed as Hermione quickly proved him wrong. She was out the window and flying away a full minute before the others realized she'd snuck into the boys' side.

The Firebolt was certainly a hard broom to control. Almost every little twitch of her fingers or change in her grip was interpreted by the broom as a command. Hermione had ridden it a few times, but Harry was always there to support her. The only times she flew solo was with more "user-friendly" brooms. _Harry made it look so easy,_ Hermione thought. _Then again, he's always made everything look easy. Defeating the big baddie and saving the day... I hope he's made it this time_, she prayed as she flew out towards Hogsmeade. Realizing that she shouldn't be seen by the villagers, she landed on the outskirts of town, a short walk from the Shrieking Shack. With no other place left to go, she headed towards the rickety building to collect her thoughts.

_What have I done? I can't go back to school any more. If I head back home to Mum and Dad... Oh my goodness, I can't face them. I'm a dropout! Maybe it's best if I just stay on the run until the end of the school year. _She paused at her own thoughts, then scolded herself. _What am I doing? Harry's in trouble right now... he could be in danger, and I'm worrying about myself? He could already be dead, for all I know._ Looking at her trunk, remembering that she still had dozens of blank sandstones to carve out some runes, she thought about sending herself back right away. She shook those thoughts out of her head. _No. Have hope, Hermione. Not until I've seen proof that Harry's already gone._ It didn't stop her from taking out the runes and begin carving carefully, just in case she needed to use them in an emergency.

_Okay, I screwed up,_ Hermione admitted to herself as she was carving. _How can I get everyone to know what Dumbledore's done? _She reminded herself of Moody's discussion. What pieces were Dumbledore holding? For one, he was known throughout Europe for being wise and had a history of saving the world. Hermione was known throughout Hogwarts for being smart and for dating Harry. Dumbledore had the Ministry of Magic and Order of the Phoenix to back him up. She had Sirius and Remus on her side. The only trump card was that she had the truth on her side, but how could she use it?

_For now, it's my word against his. He hasn't left any evidence behind! Short of spiking his drink with Veritaserum... what else can I do?_ One doesn't accuse the Chief Warlock of conspiracy to murder without something to back them up, after all. Then again... there _was_ one person who had made a great reputation on writing about a whole lot of nothing- Rita Skeeter. She only asked for an article to be written, leaving out the specifics until they could meet.

She placed the letter to Skeeter in her pocket when she was done, and only then remembered the mirror in her pocket. "Remus... Harry's really gone!" she informed him.

Remus was, once again, hiding out in the lavatory of a train station. He looked pensive. "Hold up, Hermione. Are you in the Shrieking Shack?" She nodded in reply. "Stay there. I'll fetch Sirius."

The next day, Rita Skeeter found herself sitting in the back room of a very shady pub with some very shady characters. She was expecting a teenage girl. A rather powerful teenage girl who had some serious dirt on her, of course, but a teenage girl nonetheless. She wasn't expecting a werewolf and a huge, vicious-looking dog flanking her.

"So what's this all about? I thought you'd be trying to find Potter," she said as she dropped a copy of the _Prophet_ on the table. Obviously, Harry Potter's failure to show up for the final scoring at the end of the trial didn't go unnoticed by the audience and had made front-page news. Some reporters had already scribbled out an article regarding Harry's "cheating" before the event even ended, so there were several theories floating around that Harry had cheated again and the Goblet saw fit to punish him by making him... disappear. Rita, to her dismay, couldn't write about the scoop of the decade without risking the full fury of the Ogden family coming down on her head.

"I am, and you're going to help me. I'm calling in the favour you owe me." Remus and Sirius both looked at her, surprised that she could somehow have something on Rita Skeeter herself.

"You'd better make this worth it. I'm telling you, I had to make the lamest excuse to my editor as to why I was passing over an article about something I predicted months ago. Harry Potter cheating in the tournament! Keeping our agreement could cost me as much as breaking it."

"You love smearing the names of the high and mighty with your pen. So I want you to fry the biggest fish in the ocean. Dumbledore."

Rita's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Are you kidding me?" she shrieked. Good thing for silencing wards, or else the entire bar would have come running into the room. "Look, in my line of work, you have to know your limits, and there are some things you just don't say. You don't question Moody's ability to hex your head off, Malfoy's friendliness with the minister, or Dumbledore being the greatest wizard every mother wants their little boy to become. You really want to end my career? I think I'm better off taking my chances with old man Tiberius and just pay the animagus fine instead..." She stood up and grabbed her satchel.

"We've got an angle you can work your information in," Remus said. "Publicly known facts, as well as a few... other facts that only we're aware of. He won't be able to deny your claims for this article."

"I'm listening..." Rita said without sitting down.

"We can get to him through Severus Snape. He's the one who kidnapped Harry."

"You know that for a fact?" Rita sat back down and took out a Quick-quotes quill.

"You'd better put that quill away, Rita," Hermione warned. "Nothing goes into the article that we don't want in there." Sighing, the woman took out a regular Dicta-quill instead. Remus relayed his experience as an anonymous friend of Harry's. He went on to point out Dumbledore and Snape's past history. Hermione mentioned the other champions might know about it, since she noticed Harry staying with Cedric for the entire last round of the trial. If his mirror hadn't been confiscated, Hermione would have known the full story behind that. There was a decent amount of information, but not quite enough for Rita. She decided to investigate a few leads on her own.

Hermione had to wait out two more days before the article showed up in the paper. Thankfully, Dobby, Remus, and Sirius kept her safe and secure in the Shrieking Shack. When the paper finally arrived, all of them boggled at the headline.

**Dumbledore's Love and Losses! A Daily Prophet Exclusive**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_One has to wonder how such a powerful, renowned, and well-respected wizard has managed to stay celibate his entire life. Indeed, even after the fall of Grindelwald, there were many witches less than half his age throwing themselves at the saviour of Europe. How, then, has he not found anyone to confide in for over a century?_

_The answer isn't obvious, but after some careful digging, this reporter has found some juicy evidence of Dumbledore's love life. There IS one person who he had fought tooth and nail to protect despite all odds against them, and that person is named Severus Snape. MISTER Severus Snape._

_After the defeat of You-Know-Who, a great deal of Death Eaters plead guilty to taking the Dark Mark, but of those, only one managed to escape any time in Azkaban. A few received reduced sentences for naming other Death Eaters, but Snape named none. How did he do it, then? Dumbledore came to his defense. Court records show that the only evidence presented was, and quote, "I have the utmost confidence in Severus Snape. He presented himself to me in the darkest times of the war and I stand behind him completely." He then used his powers as the Chief Warlock to close the case immediately, acquitting the man of his crimes completely. When further pressed on how he knew the man was truly reformed, Dumbledore only replied, "Any man who understands love can be redeemed."_

_Over a decade later, we look into the state of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. More specifically, the decline of the Slytherin house. People have placed the blame squarely on You-Know-Who's very public affinity for snakes that has caused such a low opinion of the house following the war, but it wasn't until Lucius Malfoy's son hurt himself due to the lack of discipline that the real cause was pinned down._

"_You-Know-Who? You mean Snape, right? Of course he's the reason nobody likes Slytherin. They're a bunch of cheaters. He took away house points from us for breathing and gave his own house points for teasing us," says Andrew Brogden, a first-year Gryffindor. (For further reading on the state of History of Magic class, see page 12.) Many of the youngest students, born well after the aftermath of the You-Know-Who's reign, clearly saw the real reason behind the decline of what used to be the most powerful house at Hogwarts._

_Even after the man was sacked, Dumbledore refused to admit Snape had done any wrong, including a possible assault on Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. An hour before the boy's disappearance, he was already completely convinced that the Snape was attempting to kidnap him and chose to stay close by Cedric Diggory for the final round in the Triwizard Trial of Champions._

"_He was sure of it. I think he was scared for his life. I mean, here's a kid who's duelled Viktor Krum and weaves through a Zuu's talons on his broom, and he was terrified that he was going to get snatched away by someone. I thought he was being a little silly, but lo and behold, he's disappeared right after the tournament's over!" Cedric Diggory, the Hogwarts champion, explained. "I just wish I could have done more for that kid."_

_Harry Potter's muggleborn girlfriend, Hermione Granger, has insisted that Snape, and therefore Dumbledore, is responsible. Be sure to pick up tomorrow's copy of the Prophet as we delve further into Harry Potter's disappearance and Dumbledore's involvement! _

"She barely wrote anything about Harry!" Hermione shouted in frustration.

"Heh, she called Dumbledore a poofter. And Snape too! That's better than anything we managed against him." Sirius laughed, clearly the least mature of the three.

Remus read the article much more objectively. "I like it, actually. It stirs up the pot and it makes sure more people will be reading the follow-up article tomorrow. Let's hope it works."

"She's got a point with this article. Maybe Dumbledore really does swing the other way," Sirius said while re-reading the article.

"Focus! Harry could be dead already! We need to do more to find him, and fast!" Hermione rapped Sirius on the head.

"Sor-ree, Hermione. I was just trying to lighten the mood. You've been stressing out too much."

"Still, we have to go and... do something..." she said weakly. She knew there wasn't much they could do. She couldn't return to school, as everyone had heard about her hasty exodus and the fact that the mind healers were after her. Sirius, of course, had to stay hidden and really couldn't do anything to help. Remus was the only one that could really travel freely, but he had his own problems.

"I'm sorry, but the full moon's coming up in a few days. I can't help you for now... don't do anything rash, Hermione," Remus cautioned her. "It'd probably be best if you head home and stayed with your parents. Tell them what's going on and lay low for a while. Skeeter might actually be able to force an investigation on Snape and Harry."

* * *

"What is the meaning of this, Snape?" Voldemort hissed from inside Snape's head.

"M-my l-lo-lord, surely you do-on't believe this d-drivel f-from Skeeter?" Snape sputtered out. Apparently, Quirrel's stuttering problem was actually a symptom of long-term possession by Voldemort. While Snape wasn't nearly as bad, he'd only had Voldemort in his head for a few days so far.

"Within every lie there is a grain of truth," Voldemort said. "And not even all that is in this is a lie. Dumbledore personally vouched for your services to him? He didn't offer such amnesty even for the lowest of my Death Eaters who got cold feet and fled. What did you do to earn so much of his trust?"

Snape was struggling to keep Voldemort out of his mind. He was a master occlumens, a practice that saved his life more than once from Voldemort's mental probing during the first war. However, defending his mind from a spirit inside him was far more difficult. He knew his mind's defences were eroding away quickly. Barty was still a few more days away from completing another body for Voldemort, and if that blasted article from Skeeter hadn't appeared, he probably could have lasted long enough. With the Dark Lord's full attention on him and questioning his loyalty, there was no way his mind would last.

"Th-The old m-man is a fool... I p-plead for-r Lily Pot-Potter's life and he b-believed I w-was redee-deemed." Even without the shakiness in his voice, Voldemort could easily tell he was lying. Without replying to his unfaithful servant, Voldemort continued degrade Snape's mind until he could read it like an open book.

"Spy. As I thought," Voldemort hissed. He could clearly see the prophecy that Dumbledore had told Snape originally- _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. The Dark Lord will mark him with death, and only he can invite Death to visit the one who slays him._ He saw how Snape only delivered Harry with Dumbledore's approval, and some help as well. "So, you think that by allowing me to kill Potter, you would bring my defeat? Your prophecy is worthless! Death has attempted to visit me many times, and yet here I remain... I have taken measures against my demise far beyond any wizard, and I will be eternal!"

Snape wondered how soon it would be until he died. With all his secrets revealed, Voldemort wouldn't keep him around for very long. He did have one use left- disrupting Dumbledore's plans. Snape was to inform Dumbledore when their plans had come to fruition and he could safely contact the headmaster and inform of Voldemort's plans by way of encoded messages- a code which Voldemort now knew. Combined with Barty Crouch's spying, they could wreak havoc on the Order of the Phoenix.

* * *

**Love is Blind, Love Blinds!**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Yesterday, we were left wondering if Dumbledore could have ignored all the warning signs that Severus Snape had not, in fact, reformed. For some reason, he harboured a very personal grudge against Harry Potter himself._

"_He hated Gryffindors especially, but he picked on Harry the most," roommate Dean Thomas said. "Sometimes if another Gryffindor screwed up, he'd take points from Gryffindor as usual, but blame it on Harry for no reason at all."_

_What reason could anyone have to hate such a young, innocent child who lost his own family when he saved Britain from You-Know-Who? Why, a former Death Eater, of course. In fact, for many years following the You-Know-Who's demise, many residents were worried about the current state of the Boy-Who-Lived, who could not be found anywhere. His health was assured by Albus Dumbledore, but it was not until he began his life at Hogwarts that any wizard had finally seen Harry Potter in person. Of course, his return to Hogwarts once again raised questions of his security. Was Harry truly in danger from one of his professors?_

"_Oh, definitely. Rumours have gone around that he's nearly died every single year," Marietta Edgecombe claimed._

"_Well, it's about time Potter snuffed it," Pansy Parkinson stated. "Frankly, I thought he would already be dead by the end of third year."_

"_Snape's creepy, I tell you. I've seen him hiding around the corner and watching Harry. More than once, as soon as Harry pulls out his wand he jumps out from the corner and gives him a detention or something. I think he was trying to get Harry alone," Flora Everhart, Hufflepuff Prefect said._

_Staff members of Hogwarts declined to comment, but you don't need a portrait to tell you what's painted in this picture. Why did Dumbledore not put a stop to this? Well, as any love-struck witch or wizard could tell you, we are apt to forgive the ones we love, but sometimes we let them go too far. In fact, it was only this past Valentine's Day that Cormander Cresswick was arrested for attempting to capture a unicorn to present to his love. And so, on the eighth of April, Harry Potter was yelling bloody murder, and yet Dumbledore still refused to believe it was Mr. Snape._

_Dumbledore came to all but an outright denial of the man's involvement in a public statement. "Severus may not have been the kindest teacher to Mr. Potter, but we should remember there are many other possible culprits. We should focus on recovering Mr. Potter, not chasing down rumours or hearsay."_

_In an exclusive meeting with Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's girlfriend for the last eight months, she claimed that Dumbledore wasn't interested in finding Harry Potter at all, and was sending search parties on wild goose chases. "He'd never let justice be served. Snape's more important to him than Harry is. But to me, Harry's more important than Dumbledore will ever be. I want Harry found, and I want Dumbledore to admit everything under Veritaserum!"_

_Readers, I only ask this of you: if you had to choose between the one you loved and the Boy-Who-Lived, who would you choose? Nobody would think lesser of you if you picked your spouse, but in the interest of justice, we must ask Dumbledore to reveal what he knows of Snape's involvement in Harry Potter's disappearance. Perhaps Miss Granger's challenge of a Veritaserum questioning can help reassure us when we have lost our tragic hero._

"Talk about a turnaround," Remus commented. "Didn't she just call Harry a dark lord a few months ago? Now he's just a 'young, innocent child.' That woman has no shame."

"You sure you wanted your name in there?" Sirius asked. "At least you're his girlfriend this time, not some dark seductress."

"Yes. I don't know if Dumbledore will actually take the challenge, but if this works, then maybe people will listen to my side of the story more. There's no other way the _Prophet_ will give the time of day to a muggleborn." Skeeter probably wouldn't have written the article if she hadn't, because she wanted someone to lay the blame on if it didn't work out.

The three of them parted ways for the week. Remus needed to lock himself in his house as he transformed, while Hermione headed back home to stay with her parents. Sirius returned to Grimmauld Place, keeping in touch with Hermione via mirror and informing her of what was happening with the Order. He also reminded her to keep Harry's Firebolt and invisibility cloak close at hand and even offered her a tip.

"Practice your transformation while wearing the cloak. It's got some pretty heavy enchantments so it'll take a few tries before you get it, but if you can do it, you'll be invisible in your animagus form! You have no idea how much damage an invisible stag can do... although a little bird like you could make a quick escape, Stiltwit."

Hermione winced. "Can't you just reduce it to Stilts? See you later, Padfoot, Moony." The three Marauders parted ways, hoping for the best.

* * *

The reaction was not quite immediate, as it took well over a week with no signs of Harry Potter anywhere before people started getting disgruntled at the apparent lack of action. Rita's loyal fans pointed to her article and called for Dumbledore to be questioned. It was another week until the public furor had grown to the point where the Minister of Magic felt like he needed to do something.

"Look, Dumbledore, just answer a few questions to keep the people happy, we print an article saying you answered everything, and we'll be on our way with the Harry Potter case, alright?" Cornelius Fudge pleaded.

Dumbledore hadn't expected this as part of his plans. Miss Skeeter usually didn't write about him, not after her first attempt at slandering him got her tossed out of Hogwarts- and Dumbledore wasn't even the one who had to expel her. All the other staff and students had seen to that, forcing her to change her name before she could find employment. Still, she had the insight to find out about his sexuality. How did she know? Although she was completely off the mark regarding his love for Snape, he was suspicious that she made the guess at all. Perhaps Miss Granger had managed to divine some more information? He needed to nip this little problem in the bud before it became a real hinderance. Even some of his Order members, especially Remus and Sirius, were showing signs of being disgruntled with his lack of action.

"Very well, Cornelius. I will submit myself to Veritaserum questioning- but it is important to understand that a man of my many positions has been entrusted with many secrets? After all, I have spoken with many students in trust as the Headmaster; most members of the Wizengamot would not like their votes to become public knowledge, and the wrong question for the Supreme Mugwump could spark an international incident." He gave Fudge a knowing look. Even Fudge knew that Dumbledore knew some of his less flattering habits, and should the wrong questions be asked, he would just as quickly be ousted from his very comfortable seat in the Ministry of Magic.

"Yes, yes... I agree completely," Fudge said. "What do you think? I'll ask Amelia to submit some questions for you, and you can make sure to answer the ones that won't cause any problems."

"My thoughts exactly, Cornelius. Your prudence may be what keeps all of Britain united following such a sad event." The minister beamed at the flattery.

The questioning came days later. Amelia Bones, head of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't get all the questions she wanted to ask answered, but Dumbledore had chosen to answer a set of widely-encompassing questions, which was a good sign. If he had specifically avoided an entire set of questions regarding a particular subject, that would have been highly suspicious. A few others were modified, and he had even suggested a few more himself.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, knew the power of plausible deniability. More importantly, he knew occlumency. While nobody had ever managed to completely beat Veritaserum on sheer willpower alone, a good occlumens could have enough control to maintain the difference between telling the truth and telling the _whole_ truth.

"Did you ever suggest the idea of kidnapping Harry Potter to Severus Snape?" That question seemed to be the core of Miss Granger's accusations, so it was best to get it out of the way first.

"No." That was his only reply. He refrained from saying any more, but Snape _was_ the one who had originally suggested the idea.

"Do you know Harry Potter's current location?"

"No." That was rather simple. When Severus reported that he had found Voldemort a few weeks ago, he didn't tell Dumbledore the exact location and Dumbledore hadn't asked. He didn't need to know where Voldemort was until the horcruxes were destroyed, and he was sure to change location in the meantime.

"Do you know how Harry Potter was kidnapped?"

"A man polyjuiced as Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt took him at the end of the sixth trial of the Triwizard Tournament." That much was public knowledge, and not saying that he knew it was Severus made it the most difficult question to answer. He did manage to do it without the effort showing on his face.

"Have you been in regular contact with Severus Snape since he was removed from his post at Hogwarts?"

"Yes. He has asked for my help at his new post and I have provided it." Madam Bones was very interested in pursuing this question further, but nobody thought to ask Dumbledore what Snape's new occupation was prior to questioning.

"Do you know what the kidnapper's goals are?" She was surprised that Dumbledore would answer a question about kidnapper's motives when he had turned down the questions on the kidnapper's identity.

"He was taken to be delivered to a Dark Lord." Everyone's jaw dropped. A dark lord? Another one, so soon? Fudge almost refused to believe it. With this answer, though, the last question made much more sense in context.

"Are you working to ensure what is best for the magical community?"

"Yes." The positive response was no surprise for anyone present.

* * *

**Dumbledore Is Still Dumbledore**

_By Gwendolyn Farewither_

_For all those who were following last week's exposé on the great Albus Dumbledore and one of his former employees, Severus Snape, there is nothing to fear. Dumbledore has taken the muggleborn girl's challenge and proven without a doubt that he is still the leader of the Light._

_Under a Veritaserum interview conducted by the head of Magical Law Enforcement herself, Amelia Bones, Dumbledore answered several questions pertaining to the kidnapping of Harry Potter. The hero of the Global Wizarding War continues to fight against the forces of darkness for the safety and well-being of all who live in the Wizarding World. He did, however, make a revelation under the potent truth serum: A new dark wizard is on the rise, who wanted to eliminate the hero of the last war against You-Know-Who._

_Dumbledore explained that he is already moving against this dark wizard, but chose not to make this information public beforehand to prevent mass panic. He is now working with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to find this wizard before he becomes a true threat to our society, who may have incited the violence during the Quidditch World Cup last summer..._

Hermione read the paper in horror. How could Dumbledore have cheated the Veritaserum? Maybe he didn't take any at all, and simply obliviated Madam Bones? Did he secretly take an antidote before the interview began? She was absolutely certain she wasn't mistaken. The first time they eavesdropped, it might have been an accident, something they heard out of context. The next several times when they deliberately spied on Dumbledore, though, there had been no mistaking it.

The truth didn't matter any more, though. The public believed what was in the paper- what they "knew" all along. Hermione couldn't show her face any more, especially with the end of the article tossing out theories that she was evil and wanted Dumbledore dead to merely being deranged and in need of a mind healer, like Dumbledore had suggested. She had to abandon the wizarding world entirely, but she wouldn't give up hope on Harry- not until she was sure he was gone. She didn't want to go before Harry did and effectively abandon him.

With the aurors being of no help, Hermione turned to the muggle police. She made up a story of how Harry disappeared and saw a man stalking them at night, describing Snape in great detail, and then discovering he never returned home after dropping her off. They obviously couldn't find Harry, but found a little amusement when the police questioned Vernon Dursley and he ended up being arrested after losing his temper. It was a small consolation, since Harry wasn't even here to enjoy it.

Two weeks later and there was little news to report. She kept her subscription to the _Daily Prophet _and kept in contact with Sirius and Remus, but found very little that was of use. The Ministry was quick to drum up some more excitement for the Trial of Fire as if there had been three champions all along like it was supposed to. Come see the spectacle instead! Dragons! Hermione didn't care about any silly dragons. The news on Dumbledore's side was more of the same. He had Madame Bones send aurors on token searches for Harry that turned up nothing. The Order of the Phoenix was working secretly on finding the few horcruxes that Snape had managed to report.

It was far more dangerous than any of them had anticipated- the first trio of order members died attempting to retrieve an antique wand of some kind. One of them returned only to inform everyone that they had been ambushed by Voldemort himself before succumbing to his injuries. Luckily, neither Remus nor Sirius were part of that group, but it was all they needed to distrust Snape. A few other members hung on for a few more missions until the list of casualties became suspicious. Any time Dumbledore or Moody went personally, there were only traps. Without those two, there was an ambush.

With Order members dying left and right and seeds of distrust being sown within the ranks, it wasn't long until the Order was disbanded. Hermione was almost certain Harry was dead, if Voldemort was somehow capable of keeping tabs on Dumbledore himself. She was about to take her rune cluster out of her trunk one morning when the _Daily Prophet_ rolled itself in front of her.

_The Must-Read-Me charm. They don't usually use that spell unless... _Hermione braced herself for bad news. It was worse than she could have imagined. The front page was made up entirely of one word and one picture. **ASSASSINATION!** The picture showed a scene of destruction where there should have been celebration. Over twenty members of the British, French, and Bulgarian Ministries lay dead, with hundreds of others in the audience bleeding or wounded. On the final podium for the Triwizard Task was Viktor Krum, winner of the Tournament- still firing spells into the audience. Standing beside him, though, was an inferus- the reanimated body of Harry Potter.

Hermione had seen more than she had wanted to. Activating the runes, all she could wish for was to wake up with Harry sleeping on her lap once again.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I wasn't too sure whether or not I should actually should have written this chapter or not, but given what I've planned next, I felt a bit more closure would be good instead of having Hermione just explain it all to Harry afterwards.


	39. Interlude 1: The First Forgotten Years

**Author's Notes: **The longest book in the Harry Potter series was made into the shortest film in the series. Not sure what to make of that.

- I had trouble writing this chapter even though it's the ONE chapter where I pretty much knew exactly what had to happen. Summarizing without being repetitive is hard.

- sorry for the long update, but is messed up and I couldn't upload it all week. Thanks to ttaw and Robst for finding the workaround!

* * *

**Chapter 39: Interlude 1: The First Forgotten Fourth Year**

_As Harry and Hermione both awoke, they both felt like they had woken from a very long dream. Much like their usual dreams, they quickly forgot everything that happened in it. Try as they might, neither one of them could remember a single distinct image._

"_Hermione? Was it supposed to do that?" asked Harry._

"_No! At least, I don't think so," Hermione said, confused. "The beacon was supposed to just send out a signal in time. It shouldn't have affected us in any way... unless... oh no, I messed up somehow. Are you alright?"_

"_I feel fine, except for the headache," Harry answered. "Maybe we should go to the infirmary just to be sure."_

_When they finally climbed out of the Chamber of Secrets, they realized that it had taken them well past curfew to finish. It was hard to keep track of time underground, after all. They snuck back to their dorms, resolving to visit Madam Pomfrey before classes on Monday._

_The school nurse told them that there was nothing wrong with them at all. The two of them chalked up the incident to nothing more than a burst of powerful magic that knocked them unconscious. Harry decided to spend his free period looking for Professor Lupin, hoping the man hadn't left yet and that they would be able to chat. Sadly, the man had already left. The last week of school without Defense class was boring indeed. With Hermione taking another class that overlapped DADA, he was left with little to do other than play chess with Ron._

* * *

_As they parted ways at King's Cross Station, Harry watched Hermione and Ron leave with their respective families. For the last two weeks, he had constantly entertained the idea that Sirius would make good on his promise to take him in as his godson, and he wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys. He was fooling himself, he knew. A good dose of logic told him that there was no way that would ever happen with Sirius still a fugitive._

_Harry didn't blame him, of course. He knew Sirius would do anything to be with him, but the man had his own hide to look after. But to say it was a letdown would be like saying that dementors were a little depressing. A little over two weeks ago, he had just conjured up the most amazing patronus he'd ever seen using the joy of getting away from the Dursleys forever. And now he was waiting for them to pick him up again. They would never consider any issue of Harry's to be more important than, say, making sure Vernon's seven-iron was polished just right. Thus, Harry's summer began with a whole lot of neglect and didn't get better from there._

_His birthday was something of a surprise, though. Hermione had bought him a book on curse-breaking that featured Ron's brother. Ron provided him a book as well, surprisingly, about the history of Quidditch. Hagrid had sent him one of his infamous rock cakes, which tasted better than what the Dursleys allowed him to eat, but that wasn't saying much. Sirius even managed to deliver him something- his personal notes on becoming an animagus._

_Harry was sad that he probably wouldn't start until he got back to school- unlike his Godfather, he didn't have any magical adults nearby, so all magic he cast would be traced back to him. One of the prerequisites was to be good at animal transfiguration and human transfiguration- both of which Harry knew were dangerous, upper-year skills that he definitely didn't want to try unsupervised, anyways. He fell asleep, dreaming about animagi._

* * *

_Harry woke up in the middle of the night with a start. He certainly began dreaming about animagi, and then his dream had switched over to one particular animagus. Wormtail. It was certainly an odd dream, where he was a baby again but Pettigrew was carrying him around as if he were the fat, rodent-like man's own child. Harry shuddered at the idea. If only they'd caught Pettigrew that night... he wouldn't be having such weird dreams. Oh, and Sirius would be a free man. Harry tried to go back to sleep, but his head was still throbbing in pain. _I hope that's not food poisoning, _he thought, remembering Hagrid's rock cake. He eventually fell asleep again, with the curious vision forgotten by morning._

* * *

Roughly a dozen men and women around Europe suddenly grasped their left arms. The same thought crossed all of their minds. _Our master is still alive?_ Some thought it with fear and panic. Others considered the idea with glee and pride. For one man in particular, trapped in a basement under a spell, the jolt he received was just enough to bring him to his senses and break free of his mental shackles. He fled before his captor realized he was gone.

In another part of the country, there sat a run-down house that was all but abandoned by the non-magical residents of the town. One man resided there in peace, where he could get two months' peace in between having to deal with dunderheaded children for over three hundred days a year. He nearly blew up his cauldron when he dropped an unprepared potion ingredient from his left hand. He stared at the tattoo in horror. He'd enjoyed ten years of safety under the Chief Warlock and headmaster of Hogwarts- and then, the day Harry Potter stepped into the school again, so did Voldemort.

Snape's tattoo hadn't burnt him that strongly since three years ago, when the Dark Lord was laying dormant inside Quirrel's body. He thought that threat had once again been eliminated, but here it was again. Perhaps the rumours were true. Maybe the Dark Lord really _was_ immortal. In any case, he needed to inform Dumbledore. He knew Voldemort's stance on traitors, and now he needed to be protected from both sides of the coming battle.

* * *

"_That was the most amazing game ever!" Ron shouted with joy. "Pinch me, Harry! I still think I'm dreaming!" Harry was excited as well, but more because he could finally see his friends again and be free of his prison at the Dursleys. He'd even met his Hufflepuff counterpart, Cedric Diggory, on the trip here. Thankfully, Hermione was there as well to provide him some relief from the non-stop barrage of Quidditch fever oozing off of everyone around them as they squeezed out of the stadium and back to their tent. The campground was packed with so many people it was hard to take two steps without bumping into someone else._

_Suddenly, they heard some screams off in the distance. Harry could just barely make out the flashes of a spellwork coming from the direction of the forest. Suddenly, a large skull with a snake coiled through its eye socket and mouth appeared in the sky, and everyone around them started panicking as well. "What's going on?" Harry shouted._

_Mr. Weasley grabbed him and Hermione while yelling at his own sons. "You two are too young to remember... but that was Voldemort's symbol. Let's go, someone's definitely out to cause trouble."_

"_But our stuff's still in the tent!" Ron argued._

"_Leave it! We'll get it when we come back. Now move! I don't want any of you getting hurt!" Mr. Weasley shouted. Charlie and Bill agreed. They were old enough to remember the terror of the war, and very often it was flee or die. They urged the younger kids along, but nobody fought them. It would have been harder not to move, as the entire crowed surged like a wave away from the icon of fear in the sky._

* * *

"So, who the hell are you, anyways?" The over-eager street rat wasn't a real Death Eater. He was just a fallen pureblood who had nothing left but his name- and that wasn't worth much, either. He blamed the mudbloods and the muggles for his family's fall from grace, so when a few masked men started having a bit of fun at the World Cup, he joined in. This particular man told him he was on a mission from his master- one who would greatly reward all of them if successful.

Barty Crouch lifted up his left sleeve. "That's all you need to know," he replied from behind his mask. No need to show him a dead man's face, after all. He took a look at the others. He'd recruited three in total. Every one of them was itching for a fight and probably drunk enough to have one with the most feared (former) auror alive. They'd make good decoys. He kept his orders simple. Two of them go in from the front, two of them from the back. There were a few known traps- biting doorknobs, venomous man-eating hedges, quickstones on the walkway that would trap their feet while the porch lights shot fireballs at them... their target was definitely paranoid.

Mere minutes into the operation, he heard a few screams from the other side of the house. _Damn fools,_ he thought. _Couldn't even last long enough to reach the front steps._ He told his partner to stop as they heard Moody's signature peg-leg banging against the floor as he rushed to the front window. Meanwhile, Barty was doing some quick spellwork on the back door. He wouldn't be able to get through all the traps and wards on the door, but he was in luck- the doorknob itself was purchased from the Ciphermancer Sanctum, and they had a simple design flaw. Within a few minutes, he had added one rune and modified one charm on the doorknob. He wasn't the Dark Lord's Master Enchanter for nothing. Throwing on his invisibility cloak, he shoved his partner hard into some garbage bins. They rolled and battered the poor sod until he was unconscious, and continued to pummel him.

Moody immediately realized that the intruders had been trying to get in from both sides of the house at once, but his defences had held up quite well. As soon as he twisted the doorknob, though, it turned into a spiky ball that pierced his palm and fingers. He didn't even have any time to yell in pain as the door burst open, knocking him backwards. He could only register someone under an invisibility cloak before he was hit with several stunning spells in quick succession.

* * *

"_...Harry Potter. Would you please enter the Champion's Room." Harry was dumbstruck. Of all the stupid, idiotic things that had to happen to him every year, this one had to take the cake. Voldemort trying to kill him? Fine. Young version of Voldemort trying to kill him? Sure. Supposed right-hand man of Voldemort escaping from prison who turned out to be his godfather? That was pretty nice, actually. But an international tournament that shouldn't have anything at all to do with any half-dead Dark Lords comes to the school and he's thrown into the middle of it again. _Why does all this horrible stuff keep happening to me? _Harry wondered as he stood up from the table._

"_How come all the good stuff keeps happening to you?" Ron blurted out, breaking the silence in the Great Hall. Harry stared at his friend in wonder and was about to explain everything, but was quickly ushered away by the officials into the back room._

_He returned from the champions' meeting in the side room to see Hermione and Ron bickering again. Upon seeing Harry, Ron stormed off. Hermione nervously asked, "Harry... you didn't put your name in there, right?"_

"_No. I didn't," Harry flatly answered. "I remember how often you quoted the death tolls and stuff."_

"_I-I believe you, Harry. It's just that... well, you know how much Ron's been going on about how much he wants to be in the tournament?" Harry nodded. "Well, he thinks you're being selfish for not putting his name in with his. That's what we were arguing about. He didn't even care about whether or not you wanted to be in it. It's the fact that he didn't get a chance at the prize..."_

"_What, the thousand-galleon prize? I'm not going to win it," Harry snorted. "And if he thinks he has any better chance than me, then he's just dreaming. I can't do anything special. I'm going to look like a fool up there."_

"_Wait, you're still in the tournament? I saw Dumbledore go in there. And Moody. And most of the judges, too. They all agreed to keep you in the tournament?"_

"_Apparently it's not their call. There could be some 'grave consequences' for refusing to participate now that my name's popped out of the cup. I'm the second Hogwarts Champion... not that it really matters. I can't take on the others."_

_Harry got the chance to prove that statement in less than a week. At the Wand-Weighing, the very first step was to conjure a stone block. Harry didn't know how to conjure. Ollivander had just given him his wand back after expertly performing a series of spells. Harry remembered what the man had said when he first bought his wand. _"I expect great things from you, Mr. Potter..." _And now, in front of some very expectant reporters, he had to say out loud, embarrassingly, "Um... I haven't learned how to conjure stone yet."_

_He could see the other champions trying to stifle their amusement. The audience before him, however, wasn't so polite. He heard some amused chuckles as the reporters scratched their quills furiously against the parchment. This was mortifying. He didn't have high hopes for the rest of the tournament, either. His bad luck didn't let up when the ceremony was over._

"_Harry Potter? A quick word, if you will," a skinny woman with a rather unscrupulous look about her pulled Harry into a broom closet. And so began the worst interview Harry had ever experienced..._

* * *

Well, that wasn't so bad, _Harry thought.__ His trusty Firebolt had gotten him through the Trial of Air without too many nasty bumps and bruises. He wasn't even last place! Although he'd barely cast any spells throughout the trial, he relied entirely on his flying skills to pull him through. There was the dozen-odd cutting charms he threw at the Zuu, which barely did any damage as Krum and Cedric did most of the work with their heavy bone-breakers and conjurations. Even Fleur, who played it safe with her less-manoeuvrable broom, had done far more damage than he did. Harry knew he needed to study more spells._

_He picked up an old book from the library- Duelling for beginners. That would be useful for the upcoming task. He started to read, picking an empty classroom to practice._

* * *

"Silencio! Petrificus To_-" Harry shouted, but was blasted off the arena before he even managed to get his second spell out. Krum was lightning-fast. He was trying out the first spell combo that was listed in the book- it had only taken him two weeks to finally learn the rope-conjuring spell. His first conjuration! It was the only combo in the book he was capable of performing so far._

_What did he learn from this experience? Well, speed was important. That was the entire point of chaining together spells in combos, to let off spells in quick succession without wasting a single wand movement. On the other hand, the definition of a "Beginner Dueller" was equivalent to "Completed all their Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense OWLs." Nobody had told him, of course, but there was an implicit understanding that all duellers were capable of casting all their basic spells non-verbally. The _"silencio"_ wasn't there to disable the opponent completely, just prevent him from using more complex and destructive spells they hadn't fully mastered. The body-bind hex would never be spoken in any combo because saying a seven-syllable incantation would hold the dueller back- the wand movement itself was much shorter. And Harry had spent most of his time thinking that learning the new spells was the hard part. At least he knew what to practice next._

_Ron had finally come around now that it was clear the Tournament wasn't benefitting Harry in the least. Rita's article didn't even have to insinuate anything- __**Harry Potter Receives Lowest Score in Triwizard History**__ wasn't a fabrication. His score of a flat zero made him a laughingstock, and Ron knew that he couldn't have done any better than Harry. Finally realizing how his prospects of winning a thousand Galleons was worse than a snowman's chance of beating a dragon, he started speaking to Harry again. At least there was one good thing that came out of his horrible performance..._

* * *

"_A Ball? What's a ball got to do with the tournament? Is it like chasers-only Quidditch?" Ron asked._

_Hermione sighed at his ignorance. "No, Ron. A ball, as in a _dance. _ A fancy one." Ron now had the same expression on his face as Harry did._

"_And they just changed the rules to allow fourth-years in, on account of me," Harry said. "I think you need to get some dress robes, and fast."_

"_We... we need to find some girls who'll go with us, won't we?" Hermione nodded expectantly. "Well, you won't have any problem with that, mate. You're Harry Potter. Who am I going to ask?"_

"_I'm in as much trouble as you, Ron. In case you didn't notice, I'm dead last by more than fifty points in the Tournament. You'd probably have an easier time finding a date. Nobody wants to dance with the Triwizard Loser."_

"_Harry, don't talk like that. You did pretty well in the first trial..."_

_Harry sighed. Maybe he could bring that up with Cho. He'd noticed her during the Quidditch matches over the years, but when Quidditch was cancelled, he _really_ started noticing her. Especially in her casual clothes at the Three Broomsticks, now that he was allowed to go to Hogsmeade. The others had caught him staring at her more than once before._

"_Earth to Harry... you're going to ask Cho out, aren't you?" Hermione guessed with a knowing smile._

"_I'm still figuring out how to do it. She's always with her friends."_

_It took almost the entire week for Harry to summon up the courage to ask Cho out to the ball. It was a disaster. _Of course a pretty girl like her would already have a date, _Harry sighed glumly. At least he wasn't silly enough to get caught in Fleur's aura like Ron had. Still, Ron had managed to run away before everyone laughed at him. Cho's friends managed to see him approach, and before he could even open his mouth, one of them imitated Fleur and said, "Look, eet eez zee leeetle boy!" They laughed as Harry approached, his face growing beet red. It had taken every bit of courage not to turn around then and there. At least Cho was nice enough not to laugh along with them._

"_Er... Ch-Cho? Um... D'you... I mean, would you like..." Harry stammered out in nervousness._

"_Sorry, Harry... I already have a date for the ball. That's what you wanted to ask, right?"_

"_Yeah... sorry to bother you," Harry mumbled out, looking at the floor as he quickly scurried away. He heard Cho telling her friends not to laugh... too hard._

* * *

_Harry was amazed at the sight of Hermione coming down the steps. He caught himself staring at her instead of his own date, Parvati, but it wasn't so bad because that girl was staring at Hermione as well. Apparently Hermione had kept her date a secret from her own roommate. She had a good reason, though- her date was none other than Viktor Krum._

_Ron, of course, ended up blowing up at Hermione in a fit of jealous rage. He accused Hermione of betraying Harry at the end of the first dance. After a heated argument in which Krum himself nearly hexed Ron, Harry tried to calm Hermione down. "For the record, I really don't mind. I'm glad someone like Viktor Krum actually noticed... um... how... err... beautiful you are." He winced as he realized how he had just implied his own ignorance._

_Hermione didn't notice as she sniffled in a very unladylike manner. "Thanks, Harry," she managed to say in between her short, hiccupping breaths. She ended up leaving the ball early, along with Krum who kept trying to comfort her. Harry had ended up neglecting his own date. Parvati was enjoying the food and chatting with her sister Padma, who Ron had abandoned._

_Sitting down beside them, he said, "Err... sorry about Ron. Would you like to dance, Padma?"_

"_Oh, you don't have to apologize for him. He just kept snarling at Hermione the whole time they were dancing. Ruined the mood. And I'll have to decline your dance, because I'm not much of a dancer and my sister here," she let out a forced cough, "says you're not much of one either."_

"_I said I was sorry... are your feet still hurting?" Harry asked meekly. "Can you still dance?"_

_Parvati rolled her eyes. "I know you only asked me out because you were required to have a date, Harry. If you don't want to be here, then I'm not keeping you. Thanks for inviting me, though. Good food and good music is really all I'm here for."_

_Harry hung his head low. Ron had left. Hermione was crying, but at least she had Krum to comfort her. He had wanted to summon up some more courage to ask Cho for a dance at least, but she was looking very happy dancing with Cedric. There really wasn't anything for him here. He glumly decided to leave and go to bed before the countdown to the new year._

* * *

"What can you tell me of the boy, Crouch?" Voldemort had just finished torturing Wormtail for messing up the soul transfer to his new body. The nerve of that little man to claim that _his_ soul was behaving erratically. No, he had mastered his own soul when he created his sixth horcrux. He could shape, change, and tear his own soul with complete control, and today he had willed it into a new body. He wanted some good news.

"As we suspected. The soul transfer did cause our Dark Marks to darken a little more, my lord. It seems that even Snape and Karkaroff could feel it, even in Hogwarts."

That was good. It would mean all his previous followers would be aware of his return to strength. Those who fled would be hunted and killed. Those who returned to serve... they would still be punished, if only a little less. "What about Moody?"

"Still brewing and taking the potion regularly. Still got him under my imperius. Want me to give him some orders?"

"No, simply have him keep quiet about Dumbledore. Use him to ensure Dumbledore is... distracted on the final day of the tournament. He can be our greatest spy. And what of Potter?"

"A whole lot of nothing, my lord. He's completely untalented. Average fourth year. Only started studying a little more when he embarrassed himself during the Weighing of the Wands, but he doesn't learn very quickly even when he's putting his mind to it. Couldn't even cast a _silencio_ nonverbally."

Voldemort mulled over the prophecy. _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord._ Obviously Potter's magical power was nothing exceptional. He didn't put much faith into prophecies, in any case. "Power" could have meant any kind of power. For that matter, "vanquish" had many interpretations as well. Perhaps it meant only the one time he had fallen- after all, he did disappear from the world for a decade before finally clawing himself back into the magical world.

Harry had managed to drive him out of Quirrel's body rather violently a few years ago, though. There was something about the boy... he needed to approach him with caution next time. Perhaps he had a natural affinity for magics of the soul, which would explain his lacklustre performance in the tournament. "Keep an eye on him. If he ever shows signs of an unexplained power or skill, then we will strike him before he learns to develop it. For now, we leave him be- the death of Harry Potter would never go unnoticed by the Wizarding world."

* * *

_Harry Potter realized he had a lot of people to thank that day. First there was Hermione, who had effectively saved his life by teaching him just enough about swimming so that he could kick his way up the last metre or so to reach the surface after his gillyweed ran out. Then he had to thank Dobby for procuring the gillyweed in the first place, which let him compete instead of standing at the dock looking like a fool. It was a shame the elf didn't explain how quickly the transformation back to a human was. Lastly, there was Cedric, who had saved him when he was overwhelmed with Grindylows. Then again, Cedric had technically just been doing it to reach the chest first, but it was the action that counted, right?_

_Now he had the problem of the wandless duel coming up. He immediately thought of the Sword of Gryffindor, which Dumbledore lent to him. One week later and he realized that swinging a bulky sword around probably wasn't the best idea. Killing the basilisk had been a really lucky swing, and nobody in Hogwarts knew anything about fencing, so there was no-one to teach him. His only other skill in the wizarding world that didn't involve wands was Quidditch..._

"_Madam Hooch, may I borrow the bludgers and beater bats?" Harry gasped out after searching the grounds for the Quidditch pitch witch._

"_Bludgers? Not the snitch? I though you would want to get your hands on a spare snitch to carry around like your father," Madam Hooch said._

"_Huh? My father did what? Never mind, can I have them? There's no Quidditch this year anyway, right?"_

"_Very well, Mr. Potter. I expect them to be returned to me in _pristine_ condition, do you hear?"_

_Harry wasn't sure how pristine the balls could be if they solely existed to be whacked around, but he agreed. Next, he just needed to find the twins to give him a bit of training. On his way back to the tower, though, he ran into a very excited Hermione._

"_Hey, Hermione! I just wanted to thank you for your swimming-"_

"_Harry! It works! It's working! I did it!" She was jumping up and down with glee. Harry had never seen her act like that before._

"_Uh, what's working?" he asked, resulting in Hermione grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into a broom closet. Harry couldn't help but picture Hermione all dressed up at the New Year's Ball as she did so._

"_The beacon! Look!" She tapped a small rune cluster in her hand, which displayed the number 20627658. It was counting up by the second._

"_Uh, what... is that?"_

"_It's a simple receiver, the counterpart to the beacon. It finds the signal from the beacon through time, and it's telling us exactly how far away... I mean, how long ago the beacon is... was... activated."_

"_Hermione... you're amazing. So... uh... is there more to this that I need to know?" Harry shifted around from the awkward silence._

"_Uh... no. That's all I have for now... I still don't know if time travel will really be possible, but this is a start. You're the only one I can tell, and... well, I was just dying to tell someone." Hermione opened the door to the broom closet and the two of them walked back to Gryffindor tower to find Fred and George._

* * *

_Harry would be the first to admit that he hadn't expected to do so well. Three draws was better than three losses. It also surprised him that nobody had anticipated using a broom. Hermione supposed it was because brooms were such a commonplace tool for wizards that none of them even thought of using them in a duel any more than a muggle would think of using a bicycle in a street brawl. Harry was in much more trouble with Madam Hooch, however, since the bludgers were no longer in pristine condition. In fact, one of them had been reduced to dust. Harry still managed the stalemates, though, simply by staying in the air and refusing to come down until the judges forcibly ended the match. Three times._

_The rest of the tournament was downhill from there, though. Maybe it was because he annoyed the judges in the wandless duel. The trial of Earth earned him a zero, since nothing Professor Snape had taught him was of any help against a golem. The Hunt was equally disappointing, since Harry didn't know of any way to track people down other than the Marauder's Map, and the event wasn't at Hogwarts._

_Trial of Fire, though, took the prize for the hardest trial yet. Dragons. Whose stupid idea was it to make champions face off, one-on-one, against dragons? Harry didn't even know what he could have done- and Krum was the only one who had managed to retrieve his egg, in any case. Fleur nearly died when she thought she had the dragon sleeping and approached it. Cedric tried multiple strategies before tiring himself out, to no avail. Harry? Well, he banished a few pebbles at the dragon, got it angry, and then took off. Cedric and Fleur considered his strategy as effective as theirs, even though the judges disagreed. The only trouble they had scoring Harry was an internal argument over whether or not negative scores were allowed._

_And so, Harry Potter arrived at the final event of the Triwizard Tournament- The Triwizard Task of Champions. He had retrieved one egg out of four. He was the only contestant who was sitting on a double-digit score. Even Fleur, in third place with a fairly large gap between her and Cedric, was still positioned well enough to have a chance to retrieve the cup. Harry dejectedly made his way up the mountain, knowing he had no chance whatsoever of winning._

_His glum, moody attitude nearly cost him his life as he lost his footing and slipped down the steep mountainside. By the time he woke up, Harry was in the medical tent, fixed up just enough for publicity photos beside the winner, Viktor Krum._

_Viktor was suddenly acting very cold to him. He'd been much more talkative after the wandless duel, because he actually found Harry's strategy amusing. _Just because he won the Tournament? _Harry wondered. _You'd think an international Quidditch star would handle victory without being so snooty.

_As the year came to an end, Harry was simply glad that he had, once again, survived an ordeal that could have killed him._

* * *

_Fifth year was remarkably unremarkable. Given the last four years at Hogwarts, he was expecting _something _to happen to him. The Defense teacher was halfway-decent. Not as good as Remus or memorable as Moody, but he was actually decent at his job. Krum remained friends with Hermione, although it seemed that after she spurned his advances, he wanted to chat a lot more about Harry. Nothing had occurred that would test Harry's life- except for the OWLs, of course. If NEWTs were worse than this, Harry would think these tests would really kill him. Hermione's nagging had elevated to unbearable levels- quite possibly worse than Percy in frequency, but without the pompousness. _

_His experience with the Triwizard Tournament had been an eye-opener. He finally realized how much luck had been on his side the first three years at school. Potions was still as horrible as ever, and Divination was so vague that he ended up making up his answers like Ron did, but he worked hard on all his other subjects. Ron wasn't quite so studious, and Hermione was almost tearing her hair out trying to make sure he was prepared for the exams._

_The following June, just before the exams were to start, Hermione pulled him into an empty classroom. "Harry... do you remember the promise you made to me back in the Chamber of Secrets?"_

_Harry nodded. "Are you telling me... you've already finished it?" Are you serious?"_

"_I think so. So... is that a yes? You'd be willing to test it out with me? I've got two rune clusters carved up for us... all you have to do is force your magic into the runes to activate it as you press it against your body." She was obviously nervous as she took the clusters out of her bag._

_Harry held out his hand and smiled. "I'm sure it'll work perfectly, Hermione. Shall we, then?"_

_With a minute of charging, the runes released a flash of light._

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

- yes, even the first time through is quite different from canon.

- there is also a reason why harry vividly remembers cedric winning, but I'll get into that another time.

- Harry and Hermione don't remember anything in this chapter at all any more. It's just for the reader's benefit.

- that is the number of seconds between the night of June 19th and the afternoon of February 13th.


	40. Second First Impressions

**Author's Note: ** Insert standard copyright disclaimer here.

- I made a small change in chapter 8 regarding finances. Harry's still ridiculously rich, but there are some caveats...

* * *

**Chapter 40: Second First Impressions**

Hermione awoke in the Chamber of Secrets, and immediately wanted to bend down the extra centimetre to kiss Harry awake. To her surprise, her lips didn't meet his- only then did she realize she never felt the weight of his head resting on her lap. She scrambled for her wand and cast a lighting charm to see in the dark chamber. She looked at the ground to her right in horror- Harry wasn't there, but his clothes, glasses, and shoes were, and they were all laid out exactly where he'd been lying down.

_No... did something happen to him? _Hermione couldn't help but worry. _Did the beacon take too much magic? Was there something that Voldemort did that happened to get sent back along with Harry's memories?_ She clutched at her chest as she had ever since the last Valentine's Day, forgetting that the locket Harry had given her didn't exist yet. _Could it have been a bundimun? No, that didn't make sense. Why would it attack him and not me?_ She noticed the lump in the pile of clothing start to wriggle. She pointed her wand at it with a spell at her fingertips. Whatever had taken Harry, she would be ready for it.

When a tuft of black feathers finally managed to pop out through the bottom of the shirt, Hermione just stood there, stunned. She'd seen this particular ruffled bird before, but only in her dreams. "Harry?" she managed to squeak out. The black-topped osprey finally managed to spill out from the clothes, struggling to get back on his feet. He looked at Hermione, then at his own wings, and then back to Hermione in confusion. Harry nodded.

Hermione burst out in glee and only just managed to stop herself from crushing Harry in a big hug. "I've missed you so much, Harry! You... you can't imagine how hard it was to find out you died! How did you learn to perform your animagus? Where were you? I've wanted to hold you again for so long!" She was babbling on and on as tears streamed down her face. Harry, not knowing what to do, hopped beside Hermione and tried to pat her on the back with his wing. Given his fairly large wingspan, he actually managed to do a decent job of it, which brought a chuckle to Hermione. "Here, Harry, I'll make it easier for you."

Hermione transformed into her tiny owl form, which was much smaller than Harry. Their roles were suddenly reversed, with Harry towering over Hermione. She leaned into him, nuzzling her beak against his breast feathers. Harry extended his wings and wrapped them around Hermione as best he could. He could almost cover her completely as if shielding her with a fortress of feathers. Harry nipped at the top of Hermione's head with his beak. It was a feeling he didn't want to lose- the desire to be there for her, to be there to protect her. He wondered how long Hermione had gone on without him.

Eventually, they broke apart, and Hermione changed back into her human form. "Why don't you change back too, Harry?" Harry hung his head low, avoiding her gaze. "You can't figure it out, huh?" Harry gave her a sheepish look. "Well, just concentrate on how you transformed in the first place..." Harry shook his head and did a weird motion with his wings. Hermione figured it was the closest thing to a bird shrugging as she could see. "You... don't remember how you did it?" Harry shook his head.

"Well, to put it simply, you have to _want_ to be human again. It took a few weeks for it to become second nature to me, but... here, I'll give you a reason. Give me a hug, Harry." Hermione knelt down and opened up her arms. Harry looked at her strangely and opened up his wings. "No, a human hug, Harry. And a kiss as well." As she puckered her lips, Harry glared at her. _It's working,_ she thought happily.

After some internal conflict, Harry began to slowly morph back into human form. Hermione gasped as he transformed, but he was so glad to be able to speak and use his arms again he immediately grabbed her. "Hermione... I'm so glad to see you again. How long did you wait before going back? Are you hurt? Did Snape or Dumbledore try to get to you?" Hermione was speechless as she gingerly tried to push Harry away. _What's going on? Why's she like this all of a sudden? _Harry wondered.

"Uh... Harry... You're naked." Hermione was looking up at the ceiling as she said it. Harry looked down, and then to the blurry pile of clothes he had left behind. He needed his glasses again- just when he had gotten used to not wearing them. He also needed to practice his transformation. In private. More immediately, his concern was to get his clothes back on before Hermione strained her neck.

"I'm done... you can look," Harry told her when he finished dressing. They looked at each other in silence for a few minutes, both blushing furiously.

"Let's go up to the Room of Requirements and get those runes done first," Hermione said.

"Let's," Harry agreed quickly. Taking out the Marauder's Map, they realized the castle was almost completely empty. That could only mean one thing- the train had already left, and they were even more late than before. There were, however, more professors who stayed behind roaming the halls. Unfortunately, even with the invisibility cloak, it was difficult to get to the Room of Requirement without being seen. Most of the professors were searching around Gryffindor tower, and its entrance was on the same floor as the room.

They moved slowly, trying not to make any sound and making sure their feet didn't poke out from under the cloak as they navigated the mazelike moving staircases up to the seventh floor. They waited by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. The professors were franticly searching, with someone passing by every few seconds. They didn't have enough time to summon the room.

Suddenly, Luna was standing right in front of them and staring. From under the cloak, Harry glanced at Hermione, who was expressing just as much bewilderment. Reaching through the cloak, Harry grabbed Luna and pulled her in with them before another professor came by. Hermione cast a quick silencing ward as Harry began rattling off questions.

"Luna! What are you doing here? Do you remember? How did you see us under the cloak?"

Luna, who had stumbled when Harry grabbed her, had fallen into Harry's lap. Looking back and forth between Hermione and Harry, she said, "You're Harry Potter. And you're Hermione Granger. That means I _did_ bet correctly, didn't I?"

"What? What bet?" For once, Luna wasn't talking about strange creatures but it still managed to get Harry confused.

"The twins' bet," Hermione said. "Yes, Luna, we're officially a couple. Still, could you tell us? Do you remember us? And how did you find us?"

"Of course I remember you," Luna said, looking perfectly comfortable in Harry's lap. "You're Harry Potter. You're quite famous. And you're Hermione Granger. You got petrified in my first year, and you're Harry's girlfriend. Everyone knows that by now."

Harry couldn't figure out whether or not Luna was just giving one of many possible answers, or actually giving the only answer she knew at the time. He bet on the latter. "Err... can you tell us how you found us? I don't think anyone's ever seen through this invisibility cloak before... except Dumbledore, probably."

"I didn't see you under the cloak. I just followed the wrackspurts. There's a whole bunch of them flying between you two." Neither of them wanted another perplexing, long-winded explanation of yet another not-quite-real animal of Luna's.

"So why are you even here? Everyone else has already taken the train home," Harry said.

"The blibbering humdingers told me to follow the wrackspurts. They usually just lead me to broom closets. I have to say the results were far more interesting than the results of most wrackspurt swarms. Most people don't invite me to join in when I find them. I've never seen it happen under an invisibility cloak in the hallway, either," she explained happily.

"Listen, Luna... we need a bit of help. Could you think of a way to distract the professors? We need this hallway clear long enough to get into a room without anyone noticing." Luna nodded in consent and left the confines of the cloak. On the map, Harry and Hermione watched her walk down the stairs and deliberately run into her head of house, Professor Flitwick. Many of the other professors stopped what they were doing and began converging on Flitwick and Luna, leaving the seventh floor hallways clear. They quickly summoned the room and slipped inside.

Hermione realized why things were already different this round. This time, it wasn't just Ron who had slept in and missed the train. The two of them never showed up and forgot to pack, leaving evidence of their disappearance. Luna, for her own strange reasons, had decided to hide out after school and seek them out. The staff must have been searching for all of them. Thankfully, Luna had done her job and let them carve out the blood runes without anybody else discovering them.

* * *

While in the clean, sterile, and safely hidden version of the Room, Harry and Hermione began the carving procedure again. Hermione showed Harry the slight change in the cluster that would hold a second charging rune that would maintain a glamour charm over their back indefinitely, so that the carvings wouldn't be seen.

"Wasn't there a rune for invisibility or something?" Harry asked. Glamours weren't the best option, since they could easily be detected and dispelled.

"I was having a hard time getting the rune for invisibility to affect the scars and not your whole back. That would have looked really suspicious. It... uh... might have also made you blind."

"What?" Harry almost jerked up from the bed, as the numbing charm was so effective that he nearly forgot Hermione was still carving into his back.

"It's an ancient language, alright? They didn't have a very large vocabulary. The closest thing to meaning "invisibility" was _kandot_ and _nix_ runes, which together mean something like 'no sight.' On an object it would make it hard to see or close to invisible, but if I carved it into a living thing like you... well, I think it might make you blind. We're going with the easier and safer route."

"I'm just amazed at how you can make a _time machine_ with runes but not an invisibility set," Harry joked.

"I can make a set of invisibility runes just fine," Hermione huffed. "It's just that making an _invisible time machine_ is a little harder, alright?"

A charging rune paired with a charm _was_ the easiest way about it, even if it had a few minor inconveniences. It was the way most charmed objects were made if they were to last any given amount of time. The cheap ones, like Zonko's joke products or the World Cup souvenirs, would quickly fade within weeks. Other ones had more complex stasis and refreshing runes, or different charging runes that would pull a bit of magic from the user to ensure the object always had some magic to sustain it. As Hermione was showing Harry with a charmed mirror, the new rune wasn't even part of the cluster, just carved into a separate section on his back to maintain the glamour. It was certainly a simple and reliable solution.

When it was Hermione's turn to have the runes carved in, they began to discuss what had happened after Harry's disappearance. After a little bit of arguing, Hermione went first. "Well, after you were gone, I mirror-called Remus and went to the aurors. Nobody believed me when I said it was Dumbledore, of course, and he even managed to convince Amelia Bones to only ask certain questions under Veritaserum. His name was completely cleared," she spat bitterly.

"Veritaserum? How did he manage that?" Harry asked.

"He made sure the questions were just specific enough that he could simply answer no, but broad enough that it wasn't too obvious that he was cherry-picking answers. It was enough to convince the aurors, at least. I went home to my parents afterwards... nobody would hear my story after that, and I couldn't go back to Hogwarts." Hermione began to sob after that, forcing Harry to pause his cutting.

"It's alright, Hermione," he lamely tried to reassure her. Being shunned by the world wasn't something Harry enjoyed, as he remembered from his second year. "You're back now. I'm back now. We can avoid Dumbledore this time."

"It was just so scary at the time! It only felt like a few hours ago to me, you know! You weren't just dead, Harry! You got turned into an inferus!"

"I did?"

"Front page news. Voldemort struck fast and hard at the end of the tournament. He possessed Krum, and killed dozens of people who were in the audience at the Triwizard Tournament finale. Of course, things hadn't been going so well for the Order either. Snape must have been leaking information to them."

"And Moody," Harry added.

"What? I thought we ended Moody's imperius months ago!"

"His eye was charmed to transmit images. Not sure if they could get any sound from it, but needless to say Barty Crouch Jr. could see everything that Moody could see. Oh, and Snape must have been possessed by Voldemort."

"Possessed? Then everything Dumbledore told Snape..."

"Voldemort saw directly. I'm not sure if it really happened, because I only heard him swear an unbreakable vow about it. I... uh... died pretty soon afterwards."

"How soon?"

"I think it was within a few hours of being kidnapped."

"Are you telling me I waited two months hoping you were still alive and you'd been dead within hours?"

"Well, excuse me for dying so quickly. I did have to face Voldemort without a working wand, you know."

"At least now I know what we need this time around," Hermione sighed. "Better communication."

"A second wand," Harry said simultaneously. "Wait, what?"

"I had no idea what was going on with you! I was so worried! The mirrors were too hard to use without someone noticing, and yours got confiscated. We need something better," Hermione explained.

"I didn't have a second wand in the tournament," Harry argued. "When mine was sealed, I had nothing left!"

"Well, if we do things right, then you won't have to be in the tournament anyways! It's not as if you'd have been able to duel your way away from Voldemort, could you? Krum could have beaten you with brute force alone," Hermione pointed out.

"It would have helped," Harry muttered. "Why can't we just get both? It helps to be prepared."

"That... actually, why not?" That settled the argument quickly. Hermione would be the first to agree that you couldn't be too prepared. "So... if you don't mind me asking... how did you die?"

"Snape told him some different prophecy that convinced him to kill me personally." Harry paused as he finally recalled his last clear memory that he had filed away with his occlumency. "I know where all the horcruxes are!"

"What?"

"That's how I died! I taunted Voldemort about the horcruxes and then used legilimency when he was off-guard. That... made him mad. He killed me right after that."

"Let's discuss those later," Hermione said. Harry's answer hadn't ended her curiosity about Harry's animagus form. "So you were kidnapped by Voldemort and a few hours later you're already dead. When did you have time to learn to transform?"

Harry chuckled. You could always trust Hermione to want to know more about learning. "I didn't," he admitted. He concentrated on the last thing he remembered before waking up. "Voldemort blasted me right through a mountain. I'm surprised i was still alive for a few seconds after that, but I remember falling through the air... and the only thing I could think of was flying back to you. I woke up in the chamber already a bird."

Instead of leaving right away, the two of them used the privacy of the room to comfortably plan out the coming summer. Since they were unable to do wand-work at home, they would once again be limited to potions and studying over the summer. The first items on the docket were the potions for Harry- eyesight and regrowth potion. Hopefully, Hermione's parents would be up for taking them to Diagon Alley for some shopping. In August, Hermione wanted to take her OWLs at the Ministry so that she could officially begin learning at a NEWT level, even though she had already begun to read the textbooks. Harry wasn't too sure if he could handle the exam, but Hermione convinced him to at least try.

Checking the map and the time with a quick _Tempus_ spell showed the halls were mostly clear. The two of them finally went to pack their trunks. Hermione realized they'd made a mistake. "I forgot to write to my parents!" It was already too late- their parents would be expecting them at the train station in half an hour or so. Hedwig wouldn't make it in time.

"How about this... we floo to the Leaky Cauldron with Hedwig, send a letter from there to King's Cross, which should only take a few minutes?"

"We still need to find a fireplace and floo powder... we can't go all the way into Hogsmeade again this time," Hermione argued.

"One of the professors' offices?" Harry suggested. They knew each one had a fireplace and hoped that they also had floo powder lying around. Their first stop was the DADA professor's office. Moody always kept some floo powder handy, but Remus Lupin didn't. He'd left the room was bare after leaving his post early. Professor McGonagall's door was locked quite securely. So were all the other professors'. Running especially low on time, Harry counted his blessings that all the professors had left the building when he decided to forcibly break through Snape's locks and use his fireplace. If any professor deserved a broken door, it was him. Or Dumbledore, but the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office looked a lot meaner and sturdier.

* * *

While she was riding the Knight Bus home with her father, Luna smacked her forehead and said, "I forgot to tell them about the house on the hill!"

"I'm sure they'll find it on their own, my dearest little satellite," Xeno Lovegood replied absentmindedly.

"That's the problem. It would be ever so inconvenient for them..." Luna concluded, shrugging.

* * *

Arriving at the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione sent off her hastily-scribbled note with Hedwig as they waited. Harry kept his head down, not wanting to draw any attention. Eventually he got impatient and decided to withdraw some money from Gringotts. Hermione insisted that they stayed, but Harry knew it would only take a couple of minutes and save them from a small headache if he withdrew twenty galleons in front of Hermione's parents. It was well within his budget- enough for two new wands, a bunch of potions ingredients (including some rare ones needed for the regrowth potion), and sixth and seventh year textbooks for the two of them with plenty of change to spare. He also wanted to grab one of the mokeskin pouches again. Hermione, of course, wanted to wait for her parents. They decided to split up, and if her parents showed up while Harry was out, she might have a chance to soften them up before they met Harry for the first time again.

Harry kept his head down and voice low when dealing with the goblins, managing not to attract much attention to himself. Once again he had asked for the same pouch as last time- currency exchange and exact change enchantments and forgoing the increase in withdrawal limits. Only after signing the contract did he notice a small discrepancy.

"Granshak, I seem to recall the withdrawal limit on my account to be fifty Galleons, not one hundred," Harry pointed out. He realized he couldn't have used the pouch "upgrade" even if he had bought it.

"The upgrade was for the pouch, not for your account, Mr. Potter," the goblin replied.

_How sneaky, _Harry thought. _Just wanted me to spend extra money for nothing._ "Is there a way for me to withdraw more than fifty galleons at a time?" Harry asked. Remembering Krum's battle armour, he figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to face Voldemort with a little more protection, and he figured that stuff was probably expensive.

"It must be approved by your head of house or family treasurer," the goblin replied, reading from the parchment verbatim.

"And who is my family treasurer?" Harry asked.

"Currently, there is nobody alive listed for that position."

"And am I not head of house?" Harry Potter nearly shouted but caught himself just in time to avoid a scene.

"Not until your seventeenth birthday, youngling," the goblin sneered.

"Fine, I _will_ be when I turn seventeen, but I'm the sole heir of the Potter family! Don't I have any say in my finances?" he said with some aggravation.

"Mr. Potter, _many_ of your predecessors have expressed desire to increase their monthly allowance from the trust fund. Thankfully, your ancestors were prudent enough not to allow the young to make such rash decisions with something as important asthe _family vaults_," Granshak explained.

"But... but... I'm the last of my family! All of it belongs to me anyways!"

"_Will_ belong to you. Unfortunately, your ancestors were _not_ prudent enough to foresee the entire clan dwindle down to a single living heir."

"...Never mind," Harry said, exasperated. Then he remembered one more thing. Hermione had had a hard time getting the news out about Dumbledore after he'd died. She couldn't do anything other than get one article out of Rita Skeeter and read the news. But since money made the world go round... "I'd like to designate an heir to my accounts."

"They are not your accounts, Mr. Potter. They are the Potter Family accounts, and as such they are not yours to give away until you are the head of the Potter house."

At the point, Harry just wanted to throttle Granshak's neck, regardless of the sharp teeth that lined the goblin's nasty smile. Out of sheer morbid curiosity, Harry asked, "And what would happen to all this should I die before I turn seventeen?"

"The accounts will remain open for one more year as claimants can make their case. If nobody can successfully claim the accounts, the vaults will be emptied."

"Emptied?" Harry knew there were no other Potters... the closest blood relatives were going to be Petunia Dursley or Draco Malfoy, but neither of them could really claim the _Potter_ vaults. Either way, Harry didn't want his money going in either of those directions.

"Gringotts will reclaim ownership of the gold and other contents of the vaults."

Now it all suddenly made sense. They didn't want Harry to spend the money, just in case he died early. The goblins would be getting their hands on over four million galleons. Knowing this, Harry was surprised the goblins didn't just assassinate him themselves when he walked into the bank. With a quiet thank-you, Harry left the bank as quickly as he could.

He returned to a frenetic scene at the Leaky Cauldron. Emma Granger was squeezing the life out of Hermione while Dan was stroking her hair and talking to several aurors at once. Hedwig was standing at the bar, the only place where she could rest. Harry was instantly surrounded by aurors himself as soon as he walked through the door. "Mr. Potter, if you would please answer a few questions for us..." Harry just looked back and forth between them with a blank expression.

Professor McGonagall suddenly stepped through the fireplace and immediately approached the Grangers. She after a quick chat with the family, Harry noticed Hermione grow red and shake her head furiously while both of her parents gave Harry a scathing look. _What did I do?_ Harry wondered worriedly. She then walked over to the aurors standing by Harry.

"Thank you, gentlemen, but your presence is no longer required. All this has apparently been nothing more than an _academic_ issue." The aurors grumbled a little, but pulled out a small piece of parchment for her to sign and then left. "Mr. Potter. Would you care to explain?"

His stern head of house had the most disapproving look on her face that Harry had seen yet. Suddenly, his excuse of taking an early morning stroll with Hermione didn't seem adequate. "Hermione and I missed the train... um... why don't I hear your side of the story first?"

McGonagall pulled him over to the Granger family. "I might as well give the lengthy explanation to everyone at once."

Hermione mouthed out silently, "_What are we going to tell them?"_

Harry only gave her a quick glance and a shrug in reply. McGonagall began telling what she knew.

"After the students had all left the Great Hall and departed on the carriages, the staff members began our customary sweep of the school. At approximately quarter to ten, we found Ronald Weasley still asleep in bed. Waking him up in time for the train was not an issue, but we also noticed Mr. Potter's trunk was unpacked and his bed untouched. It seemed that he had not slept in it the previous night. A search of the girls' dorms revealed the same for Miss Granger. Ronald Weasley could not offer us an explanation for their whereabouts." Harry and Hermione only shrugged when they realized they forgot about their former friend. Then again, he was still their friend for now.

"As we continued to search, we sent an owl to the train, which had just left Hogsmeade station, for the Head Boy and Girl to perform a head-count. It turned up four students short, but all the dorms had now been searched. At that point, we decided to Floo the aurors and report several missing students to them. We were quite tense, you see. I don't know if you heard, but the criminal who was attempting to sneak into the school all year managed to escape at the last minute..."

"Sirius is innocent," Harry interrupted.

"What was that?"

"Sirius Black is innocent. He's been framed by Peter Pettigrew," Harry stated loudly, enough for other patrons of the Leaky Cauldron to overhear. Even if he couldn't convince Fudge or the aurors without evidence, maybe he could get a leg up and start turning public opinion from the ground up instead.

"Peter? That man died-"

"He's right, Professor." Hermione quickly jumped to Harry's side, to the annoyance of her parents. "We, along with Ron and Professor Lupin, met him the night of his escape. Along with the supposedly-dead Peter Pettigrew."

"Well, all this is beside the point. We thought they had been kidnapped by Sirius Black when they were discovered missing along with another student. As we searched, we found that other student- Miss Luna Lovegood. After leading us out into the countryside for hours she finally admitted that she was actually leading us away from the two of you, who had wanted some time to yourselves." She now stared intently at both Harry and Hermione, expecting an explanation.

"She led you around for hours? We only needed a few minutes to pack our things... we didn't want to get in trouble for being late, that's all..."

"Is there any more you two would like to admit?"

"Er... we were out all night because we wanted to talk to Sirius Black again?" Upon seeing her shocked look, he added, "It's not a problem! He's completely innocent, and he's a pretty nice guy to boot! He's the one who bought the completely jinx-free Firebolt for me at Christmas." Harry wanted to remind her of the broom she had checked out herself.

"Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, you should not have been out at night! It's still dangerous. Black wasn't the only thing that could have harmed you two. Is there anything else you'd like to admit?"

"Uh... no. Is there something I missed?"

Dan Granger stepped in, sensing the question that the professor didn't have the authority to ask, but he did. "What we'd like to know is what you were doing with my daughter all last night... and today."

"We were just walking... and talking... and looking for Sirius! That's all!"

"All day?" Dan obviously didn't believe his story.

"I did have a broom..." Harry decided to see how far this lie could go. He was working up excuses on the fly now.

Emma Granger decided to go the other route. Placing both hands on Hermione's shoulders, she asked, "Hermione, did Harry here... force you to do anything?"

"NO!" her reply came out a little too forcefully and caused Emma to jump. "I mean, no. Harry would never force me to do anything... He loves me, and I..." Hermione's hands flew to her mouth at the slip-up.

"Well, at least that corroborates with Miss Lovegood's story," Professor McGonagall said. "Since school is out, you can expect your punishments to be carried forward to the first day of school in your fourth year."

"Wait, what did Luna say?" Harry asked. That girl was so unpredictable- and her words could always be interpreted every which way.

"Miss Lovegood told us that she had already found the two of you hours ago the same way she found other students in broom closets."

"You mean... no, she didn't mean it like that! She was just talking about the... wrackspurts..." Harry's voice trailed off as he conceded how silly that sounded.

Dan and Emma both gave him a harsh glare while firmly gripping Hermione's arms. The Grangers certainly wouldn't want him hanging around their daughter unattended this summer. Of all the second first impressions he could make, he managed to make the most important one worse already.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I don't really like stories where goblins are the solution to all (or most) of Harry's problems. They don't trust wizards. They have a history of not trusting wizards. And on top of all that... they are running a bank. Their business is to take people's money- or lend out some money and take much more back. I doubt they would ever offer Harry access to gold that he previously didn't know about or specifically ask for.

- I named Hermione's parents Dan and Emma mostly because a lot of other fanfics did it, and it more or less seems to be convention. It kind of makes me wonder why, though, as I don't think they were ever named in canon. Is it because of Daniel Radcliffe x Emma Watson shippers?


	41. Big Plans

**Author's Notes: **J K Rowling can profit from Harry Potter, I can't.

- Some people have mentioned that pureblood families might have implemented workarounds for the financial restrictions for young heirs. Remember, the laws are passed by old men (i.e. the heads of houses). They control the family's money and power. Their sons _want_ all that money and power- usually sooner than their fathers want to give it up. Many kings have died early deaths because a prince was impatient...

* * *

**Chapter 41: Big Plans**

It was so much worse when he knew how much better his life could be outside of Number Four, Privet Drive. He never really cared before he had a choice, grudgingly returning to the house of hell every summer to yearn for his return to Hogwarts for two months. But last time, he experienced living at _home_. The few weeks he had stayed at the Burrow back in second year wasn't quite the same, as the crowded house was always busy, never quite giving Harry the chance to settle down and relax. That was what Hermione's home offered. Two full months to settle in and just live. Hogwarts was learning, the Burrow was excitement, and Hermione's house was _living_. And the Dursley's, of course, was prison.

This time, however, he had an escape, inspired by his own godfather. Apparently, the Ministry's Trace was completely incapable of detecting internal magic, like occlumency and animagus transformations. He could escape his little prison by turning into an osprey and go wherever he wanted, and neither the Dursleys nor the Ministry had a clue. Unfortunately, he couldn't turn into his human form away from his room without some embarrassment. _How did Hermione manage to get her clothes into her transformation overnight?_ Then again, he hadn't been focused solely on that goal for the past week. Initially, he concentrated on incorporating his glasses first, because flying with poor vision was never a good idea.

Hedwig, of course, was delighted to have a flying partner. After Harry could actually see, Hedwig began to teach him how to spot prey and hunt. He could never match her ability to catch squirrels and other small animals, but after two nights of exploring and hunting, he'd found a nearby lake with fish. From that point on, Harry never really cared about how much food the Dursleys let him eat.

His ultimate goal, however, was to fly to Hermione's home. He wasn't the best writer, he knew. He wanted to be with Hermione, not just write to her. He couldn't brew potions at his home, but he had ordered the ingredients for Hermione, who was already preparing both his eyesight potion and regrowth. It was only a few nights after he'd managed to incorporate his glasses that he had the rest of his clothes transformed with him, and wasted no time informing Hermione. He penned a quick missive to her.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I've finally got the transformation with my clothes! I'll be working on getting my wand next. I've been eating well- Trout is delicious! Anyways, I think I'll_

He left the letter unfinished and threw it away, with a much better idea coming to mind. He scribbled an even shorter note to her.

_Dear Hermione_

_Please open your window all the way._

_Love, Harry._

Tying the note to Hedwig's leg, he said, "Ready to lead me to Hermione, girl?" The snowy owl nodded and took off through the window. Harry knew that Hedwig could make it to Hermione's home and come back with a reply letter within a few hours, so if he timed it right, he could still be back in time to cook their breakfast. They'd only acknowledge his existence if he didn't do his chores. Heck, if it came right down to it, he didn't care if the Dursleys really did find out about him. He might just leave and get a room at the Leaky Cauldron again.

The flight consisted mostly of gliding, which was how Hedwig taught him to read the winds and coast along with minimal effort. About two hours later, they were above the city of Southampton and Hedwig was diving down towards a familiar house. Harry continued to circle above the house, watching Hedwig tap on Hermione's window. After the snowy owl hopped inside, a puzzled Hermione poked her head out of her window as she opened it. Harry took the cue and began his dive.

Harry was a second away from flying into her when he spread his wings out full, slowing himself down instantly. He hadn't mastered the art of silent flying like Hedwig did, which caused Hermione to glance upward at the noise of his flapping wings. Seeing a huge silhouette swooping in towards her face, talons first, caused her to react instinctively. She leapt back, slamming the window closed. Harry, who had intended to land on her desk just inside the window, suddenly flapped extra hard to stop himself from smashing into the glass, but hit it anyways. He recovered well enough to land on the windowsill, shaking his head in a daze. _Is Hedwig laughing at me? That's it, no owl treat tonight!_

The window opened again and Hermione quietly whispered, "Sorry, Harry. Come inside quietly! I just hope you didn't wake up my parents with that prank of yours."

Harry waddled onto her desk and then hopped down to the center of the room, transforming back into a human. "I've missed you so much!" Harry quickly pulled Hermione into a hug, and she was just as eager to return it.

"Me too, Harry. We've got to-" she paused, turning her eyes towards her door. "-hide! Harry, fly back outside!" Harry just managed to transform and jump outside the window as the footsteps approached Hermione's door. When it opened, Harry was perched on the roof above the window and Hermione was sitting at her desk with Hedwig, as if she had just received the letter.

"Hermione, dear? What was that noise we heard?" It was her father who had come to investigate.

"Nothing, dad. I just received a letter from Harry, that's all."

"That boy who practically kidnapped you? And you said he's a celebrity, right? I know he might seem charming to you, honey, but I know his type. He'll sweet-talk you for a while and when he gets bored, he'll find another girl."

"DAD! He's not like that!"

"That's how they always seem at first, Hermione. You're only fourteen. Your first love will always seem like it'll last forever, but I'm just warning you so that you don't get hurt..." Hermione's slip of the tongue back at the Leaky Cauldron certainly made an impression on her parents, and not a good one.

"I've known him for years already. You remember my letters I sent home! He's my best friend..."

Daniel Granger didn't want to break his daughter's heart by saying what was on his mind. _She's never had many friends to begin with... her best friend might not be a very good one_. "May I at least see this letter?"

"It's nothing. He just told me to keep the window open."

"Why would he do that?"

"Er... maybe he's sending me a gift that's too big for Hedwig to carry?" Harry wondered if he should take this opportunity to swoop inside and introduce his bird form to her father.

"He's sending you _more _gifts?" _Well, scratch that idea_, Harry thought. "How much has he bought for you already?" Harry began listing the things off the top of his head while Hermione explained the educational value of his "gifts" to her father. After leaving the Leaky Cauldron, he had bought textbooks for her in hopes of making a good impression. That didn't go well. Over the next week, he'd sent Hermione all of the potions ingredients, a better cauldron and other potions tools, since he couldn't do any brewing it himself at the Dursley's.

"He's just helping me study! He has his own owl so he can order these things. We're both ready to take our OWLs this summer!"

"OWLs?" He vaguely remembered the term, but it was a while since he'd had one of those discussions with her professors.

"The magical version of GCSE's."

"Really? Which ones?"

"Just about all of them. Harry is, too."

"Really?" asked Dan. _Really?_ Harry mirrored his thoughts. He knew he was perfectly capable of doing the coursework, but the thought of actually taking the exams early hadn't crossed his mind. He had planned on self-study in secret for the higher level courses.

"Yes! You should be happy about Harry!" Hermione replied, nearly losing her temper.

Dan was startled by his daughter's boldness. It was almost as if he didn't know the girl in front of him anymore. Could that magic school have affected her so much? She'd never talked back to him like this before. She was more evasive. Even if she didn't talk to him all that much, she'd at least confided in her mother before. Now she was showing a strong independent streak. At least she didn't lose her love of studying- in fact, it seemed to have become even more intense. He didn't really like it, of course. He always wanted Hermione to be his little girl, but she had to grow up sometime. She _was_ a teenager, after all. Some of his own friends who had their children a few years before him had warned him about the moody teenage years. When Hermione hit thirteen and didn't become a teenage terror, he thought he was safe. His girl was still smart, well-adjusted and open to her parents. Of course, he should have known that humans didn't act like clockwork.

Maybe her teenage temper had only begun manifesting a few years late. Was he really just blaming Harry for the changes he didn't like in his daughter? Was she just growing up like any other child? He never understood teenage girls when he was in school, and he still didn't understand now. Maybe Emma would have better luck talking to her. For now, he just turned to the door and quietly said, "I'm sorry. It's just that... you've changed so much," as he left.

After hearing the door close, Harry flew back inside and transformed back into a human. He pulled Hermione's head to his shoulder and felt his shirt grow damp. "I didn't know it was so hard for you too, Hermione. I can handle your parents not thinking the best of me, but I didn't know they'd doubt you, too."

"It's alright, Harry. It's nothing I can't handle, but I've always been able to talk to them about any problems I had. I... well, I wrote a lot of letters to them in first year, and they helped reassure me when I didn't have any friends to talk to. How do you do it, Harry?" Harry didn't know what to say to that, because he'd never had anyone to confide in before Hermione. Ron wasn't very mature, especially not in first year, and he would never understand the kind of turmoil that Harry went through daily. Even when he trusted Dumbledore, the headmaster had never been around. McGonagall's strict sense of following rules meant, unfortunately, that he could never talk to her about anything that wasn't school-sanctioned. Back at "home" he had no friends and the only person who treated him like a human was Mrs. Figg and her cats. He stayed silent. "Now I've only got you... I hope my parents will come around, but I just wish you could be here more often," Hermione sighed.

"I'd come here every night if I could," Harry said.

"It must take hours to fly here! I can't have you losing that much sleep every night just for me!"

"Then maybe I'll just stay here. Sleeping in a tree and hunting fish is better than what I have to put up with over in Surrey. Once I manage to get my wand incorporated into my transformation, I think I'll ditch the Dursleys."

"You're not sleeping in a tree, Harry, you'll stay in my room. But what about all your other belongings? Your clothes? The invisibility cloak? Your broom?"

She did make a good point. The Dursleys would probably just bin everything he owned once they found out he'd run away. The invisibility cloak was one of his most prized possessions, next to his Firebolt. The Marauder's map was important, too. His mokeskin pouch didn't even need to be part of his transformation, as it shrunk small enough that he could just wear it in his bird form. Just about everything else was replaceable, though. His clothes had never fit properly, and his old textbooks probably should have been donated to a second-hand store anyways.

Even though he had cut down to the bare essentials, the delivery was going to be a problem. The cloak didn't fit over him and the broom, and it would surely be visible flapping in the wind, although most muggles wouldn't notice. Delivery owls, however, were routinely ignored by wizards. If he flew high enough, though, even muggles would think it was just a bird who managed to catch some large prey. "I'll have Hedwig 'deliver' my cloak to you, and I'll fly to you carrying my broom. I'll just have to buy a few new textbooks and a perch for Hedwig after I arrive. When school starts, I can buy the rest of the things I need."

* * *

Harry worked furiously for the next few days, concentrating on incorporating his wand into the transformation. Meanwhile, Hermione had begun brewing the potions for Harry, using chemistry safety equipment instead of the bubble-head charm. Once he could comfortably transform with both the wand and the map in his pockets, he opened up Hedwig's cage, giving her the bundled-up invisibility cloak and his photo album, tying it to her leg. Transforming himself into his osprey form, he picked up a second package with his broom and a set of clothes and the two birds took off together. He didn't bother looking back.

He arrived at Hermione's just before midnight, finding her open window and swooping straight over to her bed. She was waiting expectantly for him. Hermione gave him a quick kiss after he arrived and then held out a sliced onion.

"What's this for?" Harry asked.

"Sniff it. I need your tears for the potion again," Hermione told him.

"Wow, not wasting any time, are you?" The tears welling up in his eyes were the result of amusement, joy, and the onion. After Hermione gathered them in two vials of ready-made potion, she told Harry to lay on her bed. She dripped the potion into each eye, holding his hand as the sharp, burning pain coursed over his eyes.

"Ugh. I don't think I'll ever get used to that. Even the blood runes were more comfortable to carve."

"I know the feeling. I took the potion as well," Hermione told him.

"You did? But you don't even need glasses!" Harry said.

"Just because I don't _need_ glasses doesn't mean my vision's perfect. I can read perfectly well, but after taking it I noticed everything's just a little sharper. And it's especially good in my owl form. I'm thinking of taking some of the regrowth potions as well. Let's get some sleep... we can start on those tomorrow morning."

"That's a good idea," Harry agreed, stretching his arms. The flight to Hermione's house this time was much longer and more tiring as the airspeed velocity of a laden osprey was far slower than an unladen one. He got up from the bed and unwrapped his invisibility cloak. He began to lie down on the carpet beside the bed and laid the cloak over himself.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

"Um... going to sleep?"

"Not there, you're not."

Harry looked around the room. "Where should I sleep, then?" He knew he couldn't take the guest bedroom this time around.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Here, Harry," she patted her mattress.

"But it's... we..."

"It's not like it's the first time we've slept in the same bed, Harry." While that was true, the few times they'd done it on purpose the Room of Requirement had provided a bed large enough for both of them to splay out comfortably. Her bed was sized more appropriately for a single occupant.

"Not that I'm completely against the idea, Hermione, but I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable..."

"Harry, there would be nothing more comfortable to me than sleeping with you in my arms. Now get over here," she said with a voice that exuded flaming passion and icy forcefulness at the same time. There was no arguing with her as Harry climbed into bed.

* * *

They quickly fell into a daily routine that would keep Harry hidden from her parents until they were left alone in the house. Harry would then take his shower and fix up a small breakfast and they'd both read the Daily Prophet together. Since he didn't want to take too much from the Grangers, he ate the rest of his fill by hunting in his animagus form, which took only about half an hour's flight to the nearest lake. Hermione followed, mostly to get more flying practice and to learn more about hunting. After breakfast, they took a daily dose of regrowth potion, followed by occulmency and legilimency practice. Unable to cast actual spells without the Ministry knowing, the afternoons were often spent either studying from textbooks or strategizing for the rest of the year. When her parents returned in the evening, Harry spent most of it hunting for more food and just flying around his favourite hunting grounds until Hermione came to get him. At night, of course, both of them were eager to fall asleep in each other's arms.

"First things first- I'm not going to tell Dumbledore about the vision that's coming on my birthday," Harry said. "I'm not going to give him another reason to use me."

"Stupid old bastard," muttered Hermione. "How about getting rid of Snape? I don't think we can curry enough favour with one of the Hogwarts governors to sack him."

"...we could always kidnap Draco and obliviate him again," Harry suggested jokingly.

"I'm not going to make a career of kidnapping and extortion. Besides, I think Lucius did it last time to teach Draco and Snape a lesson, because he'd been doing stupid things like getting his wand broken," Hermione answered.

"I could always goad him into a duel and make him break his wand again?" Harry couldn't resist. Hermione ignored him.

"There's got to be a better way to do it. Legally. Faster. Maybe we can get him before summer's out. I don't want to wait until Malfoy's upset with his son's antics."

"I'll write a letter to Mr. Fleming. Maybe he'd be willing to take the post again. We'll figure out how to deal with Snape later." They brainstormed a few ideas, but the main problem was that people trusted Dumbledore, and Dumbledore protected Snape. They needed people, or at least the board of governors, who had enough influence to override Dumbledore's decisions.

Unfortunately for them, they missed a good opportunity to call him out publicly, as they saw in the _Prophet_ one morning. Snape had just received the Order of Merlin, third class, as Fudge had promised him. It was a public event with plenty of reporters. If Harry had known, he would have stormed the stage and announced Pettigrew's guilt and Sirius's innocence, not to mention Snape's hand in nearly getting them killed. The very same day, Harry's invitation to teach at Hogwarts was answered with a courteous, but short, rejection.

_Dear Mr. Potter_

_I am quite pleased that my reputation has led you to invite me personally to become your Potions professor. Although a teaching position at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a highly respectable position, it would represent a loss in wages compared to running my current potions businesses. I am already training several apprentices at this time and I much prefer the more private and dedicated teaching style as opposed to teaching in a classroom. If you would like me to take you on as a personal apprentice, you will have to arrange for transportation to my brewing facilities in Bordeaux yourself. We can discuss the pricing at a later date._

_Floyd Fleming, Maître de Potions Intl., Westeuropäischer Großmeister im Zaubertrankbrauen , Certified British Potions Master._

Both of them were surprised at how many titles this man held. He'd never mentioned them in class last year- in fact, most of them had assumed he was just another student who had graduated from Hogwarts earlier. The fact that he held the British-recognized Potions Master title was practically an afterthought. Harry wondered what on earth Malfoy could have used to prompt him to teach. Whatever businesses he was running was probably very successful.

A few days later, they both received their first letters from Ron, which reminded them that he was still friendly for now. His letter, once again, invited them to come over to listen to the World Cup game on the Wizarding Wireless. "Ron's going to invite us to the World Cup again," Hermione said. "Do you want to go?"

"I think we should. There's going to be a Death Eater attack, right? Maybe we can stop them, alert a few aurors, maybe lay down some traps for them."

"That's a good idea. Let's see... time-delay wards or entry-trigger? They mostly came from the forested area, right?"

"I think time delay would be best. We don't know how many campers were playing around in the forest before the game started, but it should have been nearly empty when the game started."

Again, they needed a lot of brainstorming to plan out how to handle that part of their plan. Catching Death Eaters was one thing, but they weren't sure if all the rioters were even marked Death Eaters or just sympathizers. Even if they were all marked, they still needed access to someone who was marked to study the Dark Mark before they could make a trap specific for them. Without that, they would have to limit themselves only to disarming, stunning, tripping, and other non-lethal traps. Not wanting to accidentally maim or kill an innocent person in the crossfire did limit their options.

With that planned out, they moved on to trying to help Moody. They did so in a simple letter.

_Dear Alastor Moody_

_You are going to be ambushed at your home some time after the Quidditch World Cup. I'd suggest you upgrade your home security._

_Sincerely, a friend_

Although they had to admit it sounded ridiculously suspicious, at least it would put Moody more on his guard than usual. He could have interpreted it as a trap and prepared for an ambush before the World Cup. He could have left the country. They didn't really know, but whatever Moody did, they hoped it would prevent him from falling under the control of Barty Crouch Jr.

That brought them to the final issue of the summer. Voldemort. Harry recalled the list of horcruxes he pulled out of Voldemort's head. The first one was the diary, which Voldemort didn't know was already destroyed. The second was his family ring, hidden in his mother's home. The third to fifth were items of Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. He'd been intent on making the sixth horcrux out of the Sword of Gryffindor, but he was unable to find it and ended up settling on attempting to make a horcrux out of the statue of Godric Gryffindor in Godric's Hollow. Hiding in plain sight, a horcrux that was visible and _protected_ by the very people who wanted to slay him would have been a very cunning ploy on his part if he hadn't been killed trying to use Harry's death to complete the ritual. He'd settled on turning a basilisk into a horcrux- which, if things played out the same way, was due to be made next week.

They knew that, despite all their advanced studying, they couldn't destroy these themselves. Harry hadn't been able to pull the information about their enchantments or the wards at the locations where they were hidden out of Voldemort's mind. Analysing and breaking the protective enchantments on the horcruxes would require the work of professional curse-breakers and nothing less.

They only time and place they knew Voldemort was for certain was at Riddle Manor on the night of July 31st, turning Nagini into a horcrux. Again, wary of protective wards (and unable to perform magic without activating the Trace), they needed to hire a cursebreaker. The only one Harry remembered by name was Bill Weasley, who was working in Egypt for Gringotts. Even if he couldn't work for Harry himself, he could at least recommend a few other cursebreakers. His letter was answered more quickly than Harry expected. Hedwig returned with two pieces of parchment instead of just one. They unravelled the shorter one first.

_Hey Harry! How's your summer going? What in Merlin's name do you need a cursebreaker for? When I saw Hedwig flying to the Burrow, I thought you wrote a letter for me and tried to take it from her, but then she bit my finger! So what's going on with those muggles you live with? Are you going to get some professional-level revenge on them? Blimey, mate, I want in on this. Just don't tell Hermione, ok? She'd probably tell you to stop because her parents are muggles too._

Although it was unsigned, the messy writing was unmistakably Ron's. Hermione let off an unladylike snort as she read Ron's letter. "I wouldn't understand? I'd be first in line to hex the Dursleys straight!"

"Yeah, Ron's assuming too much again. We're not going to be bringing him to face baby Voldemort." Harry unravelled the other piece of parchment.

_To Mr. Harry Potter_

_It seems my reputation precedes me, because when I asked my brother Ron about you, he said he'd barely mentioned my name or profession to you. At first I thought the letter was a prank by the twins, but Ron confirmed that the snowy owl did belong to you. Needless to say, I'm glad someone as famous as you would consider me for your cursebreaking needs!_

_I'm also glad to inform you that I'm staying at the Burrow for the duration of the summer while I search for a flat for myself. I've just completed my four-year "tour of duty" and apprenticeship in Egypt for Gringotts, and they decided to move me back to England for a while so I can help test the vault wards. They've been getting a different cursebreaker to test their vaults every season now, ever since the break-in of '91. To that end, I'll be available to work for you myself, perhaps even scout out the job for you. Gringotts doesn't usually hire out their cursebreakers but I do know of several other companies they normally contact when we need an extra hand._

_Perhaps you'd like to discuss this in person. I do have weekends off, so we could meet at Diagon Alley at the Leaky Cauldron this Saturday. I can get an estimate of the equipment and team size we'd need for job once I get a good look at the job site. I'm sure you'll have no problem spotting me, as the famous Weasley Red runs through me strongly._

_Sincerely,_

_William Weasley_

"This sounds promising," Harry said.

"Except for the fact that your birthday's on Sunday, Harry," Hermione said. "That means we've got to convince Bill to go all the way to Little Hangleton on Saturday, check out the wards, hire some more cursebreakers, and break through them in thirty-six hours."

"I doubt he's going to leave right after the horcrux ritual," Harry said. "Let's just see how it goes. If we're lucky, the wards might not even be that strong."

* * *

When the weekend rolled around, Hermione made an excuse to her parents that she was "going shopping" with a friend. She'd never gone out with anybody before, as far as her parents knew. Even though it wasn't a lie, her parents had a hard time believing her, which led to another strained argument that nearly led to a shouting match. Hermione ran out the front door, with Harry flying invisibly above her, transformed with his invisibility cloak on.

With a few sickles handed to her, she stuck her wand out and took the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley. They'd be meeting with Bill at noon, and they decided to spend the morning shopping for their extra supplies.

Their first stop was Ollivander's, for their extra wands and wand holsters. As they stepped into the old man's shop, they noticed that he was whittling away at the back of the store, working on some unfinished wands. "Hm... phoenix feather and holly, vinewood and dragon heartstring... it must be Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. What brings you two back into my shop, if your wands appear to be in perfect condition?" Ollivander asked without turning around.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked bluntly.

"I know all of my wands, Mr. Potter," Ollivander answered, continuing to work. "And they know me. It is far more difficult to craft a quality wand if you do not take the time and make the process _personal_."

"They know you? Wait, does that mean..."

"I am almost equally compatible with all the wands I have created, yes."

"Didn't you tell me that the wand chooses the wizard, though?" Harry asked.

"Yes, they do. And most of them may not choose me, but they would never deny me, either. I do converse with them as I create them, you know. They would not deny my magic any more than a child would deny their parents' touch."

"You say that like they were... sentient." Hermione didn't have nearly as much difficulty finding her wand as Harry did, and thus didn't quite believe Ollivander's explanation for the wand-selection process. Her parents just thought it was a bit of showmanship to guarantee a sale.

"Sentient is not quite the right word, but should you ever delve into wandcrafting, then perhaps you would discover it for yourself. Now, how can I help you two today?" Hermione's eyes widened when it sounded like Ollivander was offering to teach them, but Harry had gone straight to business.

"We'd both like a spare wand, and wand holsters for all of them."

"You are aware that this second wand is unlikely to perform as well as your current one, yes? Still, it never hurts to be prepared. Would you like the wand to be more suited to your main hand or your off-hand?"

Harry never really considered the idea of using his left hand to cast spells. It could open up the possibility of casting with both hands at the same time, though, if he had a wand made for each hand. He had tried it a few times, testing out a spell with his left hand for fun, but it came out as weak and imprecise as trying to write with his left hand. With a wand that was suited for it and a little more practice, though, he thought he could do better. "I'd like it for my off-hand," Harry said.

"Main hand," Hermione said at the same time. She was surprised at Harry's choice, as she thought her own answer was obvious. She'd read about wizards in the history books who cast from two wands at once, like Dairmid the Double-handed Dueller, one of the only wizards to ever use two wands in the duelling circuit. Casting two spells at once from two wands was far more difficult than casting from one alone- most wizards were far more efficient simply casting a chain of spells from a single wand. Dairmid himself didn't actually win any grand championships, but he was a crowd favourite for his unique style. "Why would you want that, Harry?"

"You know... maybe cast two spells at once?"

"The main reason for choosing a wand for your off-hand is, in fact, to cast spells when your main hand is injured or otherwise occupied with something other than spellcasting, Mr. Potter," Ollivander told him.

"Other than spellcasting?"

"Should you choose to wield a sword alongside your wand, perhaps. No wizard has done that for centuries," Ollivander said in a way that almost sounded like reminiscing.

"Well... I think I'd still like it for my off-hand," Harry answered. Even if he could only cast from one wand at a time, the element of surprise could count for a lot.

"Very well. Hold out your left arm please, Mr. Potter." The magical tape measures came flying and did their measuring while Ollivander inspected Harry's hand as if he were trying to do a palm reading. When that was done, he pulled several boxes from his shelves. "Try this one. Alder and dragon heartstring."

Harry took up the wand, with no results. Ollivander snatched it away and gave him another one.

"Mistletoe and salamander tail." Another rejection.

"Blackthorn and hippogriff feather." A few small sparks, but nothing close to a match. "I was so sure..." Ollivander muttered as he took it away. It took nearly a dozen more tries before they found one that finally worked.

"Rowan and dragon heartstring, eleven and three-quarter inches," Ollivander triumphantly announced as a shower of bluish-green sparks erupted from Harry's new wand. "A little more forgiving than your first wand, Mr. Potter, but you'll find it quite suited to less-precise spellcasting like warding and shielding."

"I thought you would get another phoenix feather core," Hermione commented. Inwardly, she was a little happy that Harry's second wand shared the same type of core that hers did.

"Not at all, Miss Granger. In fact, Mr. Potter here could probably tell you that the core of the wand is the least important aspect in a wand's compatibility. It focuses the magic into a spell _after_ the wood has absorbed his magic."

"Huh? Me? What do I know? Oh, right." Harry turned to Hermione, realizing he'd never told Hermione what was particularly special about his wand before. "Voldemort's wand and mine share the same core."

Hermione's eyes turned to Harry's pocket, where he kept his holly wand. "You mean his is a phoenix feather core, too?"

"Err... not just any phoenix feather. The same phoenix feather was used for both wands."

"But phoenixes are such light-aligned creatures! How's that possible?"

"Again, Miss Granger, you are putting far too much emphasis on the core of the wand. It is merely a part of the whole, and you can never understand a wand simply by its parts. I can tell you Tom Marvolo Riddle's wand was very well suited for charms, hexes, and curses, much the same way that Mr. Potter's first wand is."

"Oh... I see." Hermione's heart sank a little when she realized the connection between her wand and Harry's wasn't as strong as she initially thought. Without bothering to measure Hermione's right hand again, Ollivander began to pull out several boxes. It only took two tries to find a compatible wand for her.

"Hazel and unicorn tail-hair, Ten and three-quarter inches," Ollivander announced. "Very nearly mirroring your first wand, Miss Granger. It, too, is well-balanced for all spells."

After paying for the new wands and holsters, the two popped outside of Diagon Alley, and in a few minutes they were at Debenham's, shopping for new clothes for Harry. The regrowth potion had certainly done a job for him, as he had spurted up several centimetres in the past month alone, and was probably going to continue growing. Combined with the extra exercise he was getting in his bird form, his chest and shoulders were becoming much more defined. Although he was certainly bigger, his waistline would never be large enough to fill Dudley's old clothes, even the ones he'd received at half his current age.

Hermione wasn't getting the same results as him, mostly because she was taken care of quite well during her childhood. Even in her animagus form, she kept to the ground, and all that running (along with some very positive responses from Harry), she had decided to finally update her wardrobe a little with skinny jeans and shorts. She held the line at skirts, though, as she always felt they were too "girly."

When they returned to the Leaky Cauldron, it was half past eleven. Bill had agreed to meet them to discuss "the job" at noon. They didn't mind the cheap food that Tom served, as both their minds were going into overdrive, anticipating what could be their very first pre-emptive strike against Voldemort.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I've made a slight change to canon about the relation between Harry and Voldemort's wands, nothing that changes the plot, though. It just seems odd that two wands from the same animal would react to each other- I mean, how many heartstrings can you get from a single dragon heart? How many unicorn tail hairs can come from a single unicorn? You'd think you'd see the _priori incantatem _effect more often if the core only had to come from the same animal. Now, if it was the same tail feather (I imagine phoenix tail feathers to be as long as a peacock's) cut in half, then the whole brother-wand effect would be much more rare, especially if dragon heartstrings and unicorn hairs aren't usually long enough to make 2 wands...

- when I was writing this chapter I almost forgot about the Firebolt being one of Harry's prized possessions. lol.


	42. Big Spenders

**Author's Notes:**

- JKR will own Harry Potter 70 years after she dies.

- I'm still trying to figure out how the trace works. I'm trying to keep it within canon. It can be fooled easily- the ministry thought Dobby's magic was Harry's, but obviously it can detect certain types of wandless magic. JKR never really explained it, it was mostly just a plot device to stop Harry from getting revenge on the Dursleys, I suspect.

* * *

**Chapter 42: Big Spenders**

"Nice to meet you, Harry." Bill was easily the tallest Weasley and had quite a handsome face, keeping his long hair tied back in a ponytail. He held himself with an aura of confidence that Harry had never seen in Ron or Percy. That confidence was transmitted through the handshake he gave each of them before sitting down. "First things first, Harry. Can you give me a rough idea of what the job will be?"

"I don't have much detail, but... um... it's probably a well-protected wizard's house."

"You're asking me to break into a house for you? I know I've done some shady jobs for the goblins, but just promise me you're not doing anything illegal, Harry. I wouldn't want anyone to think the Boy-Who-Lived has turned to a life of crime."

"No... in fact, we're trying to catch a criminal," Harry explained.

"So why aren't you going to the aurors? Why a private job?"

"I haven't had much luck with justice when it comes to the Ministry," Harry growled out. _And if they found Wormtail, Fudge would probably give him a medal._

"I know what you mean... slow, inefficient... but we're going to have to hire a few hitwizards for protection as well. That'll cost you. Now, for the house itself... what kind of protections are we talking about? Standard security wards? Anything nasty or illegal?"

"I have no idea, but you should expect some pretty dark ones," Harry said.

"Then I should probably scout it out before we can figure out what kind of team and equipment I'll need to assemble. By the sound of it, the wizard's a right nasty piece of work. Who is it? And why don't you try calling the aurors if he's a real criminal?"

Harry pulled Hermione aside and the two of them quietly debated whether or not they should let Bill in on the identity of Voldemort. They felt he was trustworthy enough. "I haven't been able to trust the aurors to do their job competently. And the minister's never made a good decision in his life. If he finds one of the... targets inside the house, he'd probably walk up to him and give him a medal."

"And who exactly are we talking about here?"

"Peter Pettigrew. But he's not the real target."

Pettigrew... the name sounded familiar to Bill, but having been in Egypt until June, he hadn't been very up-to-date with current events in Britain. He shook it off as a curiosity. "So who is the main mark?"

Harry took a deep breath while Hermione cast a silencing ward. "Voldemort."

"_WHAT?"_ Bill reacted in a relatively predictable manner. He was old enough to remember the actual reign of terror that Voldemort had for years. Even though his parents had shielded him from the greatest of dangers, he understood the headlines he saw on the Daily Prophet and the unfriendly, distrusting looks on everyone's faces as they scurried by on the streets. It was a way of life he didn't want to go back to.

"He's making a return. Right now, he's pretty weak, and I have a good idea where he is. I think it's our best chance to... er... nab him. At least, temporarily."

"So you're saying he'll be back in another thirteen years even if we do this?"

"There are some other jobs to do before we get rid of him completely, but I think being partially dead would be another good setback."

"You're not joking, are you?" Bill's face dropped. "How do you know all this?"

"It's better that I don't say," Harry told him. "So, will you do it?"

"I'll do the survey free of charge if you're right." Harry and Hermione explained in as much detail as they could what they had been able to find out about the Riddles and Little Hangleton. It was a muggle town with no wizards- not even muggleborn ones. Most children moved away as quickly as they could, muggle and muggleborn alike. The manor overlooked the town from above a bluff but had been abandoned since the last Riddle died decades ago. Bill would check it out and meet them again in a few days to gather a team. Harry had hoped that this could have been done quickly, but now he was depending on Voldemort staying put after his horcrux had been completed. Still, this type of work wasn't to be rushed, so they shook hands on the deal.

* * *

On Harry's birthday, Hermione baked him a cake. Her parents were surprised at her sudden interest in baking. She toiled all day in the kitchen, making several attempts while Harry was out of the house, avoiding her parents. Finally satisfied with the product of her third attempt, she ended up stuffing it in the refrigerator and waiting until after her parents had retired for the night. When the lights were out, she finally snuck the cake and two forks up to her room, where Harry was hiding.

"Happy Birthday to you..." she sang in an airy whisper. When she finished, there were no candles to blow out, but Harry reached over and gave Hermione a long, adoring kiss as he ran his fingers through her hair. His kisses continued over to her cheek, then her ear, then began to move down her neck. "Mmm... what did you wish for, Harry?"

"I'm granting it myself right now," Harry cooed, moving his hands down to her hips and pulling her in close to him and nuzzling his cheek against hers. Through her thin nightgown, Harry could feel her heartbeats and her breaths. They pulled their faces close to each other and gazed into each others' eyes. It was only then that Harry really noticed how much he'd grown in the past two weeks. Originally he'd been the same height as her, but now Hermione was stretching her neck up ever so seductively to give him another peck.

"Then could I have my birthday present a little early?" Hermione's silky voice captivated his senses as she ran her hands over his not-so-scrawny shoulders. She unbuttoned his shirt, slipping her hands inside and around Harry's back. She pulled herself close again, placing her head against Harry's chest. The beating of Harry's heart made her purr in delight as she pushed him on to her bed and fell on top of him. For the next little while, they ran their hands over each other as quietly as they could, stifling their moans in their throats, not letting anything louder than a heavy breath escape their lips.

Eventually, they settled down in the same position that they initially fallen on the bed, with Hermione lying on top of Harry, her head resting on his chest. He had his arms draped over her back. Neither of them were paying attention to the fact that their breathing, and even their heartbeats, were matching. "Shouldn't we eat that cake at some point?" Harry asked, rolling his head towards Hermione's desk.

"Oh, forget it. It probably tastes horrible anyways. The first two did, this one just didn't look nearly as bad," she said. "Besides, I don't want to get up."

"Neither do I," Harry said. With her in his arms, he felt safe, comfortable, loved, and complete... and malice? The completely foreign emotion caused Harry to realize what was coming. "The vision... Hermione... keep me quiet," he managed to whisper out just before he passed out.

* * *

Harry was ready with his occlumency the moment the vision began. The muggle man was already in the room. The old man was talking back to Voldemort, heckling him about being the trespasser on Baron Riddle's property. Voldemort was still facing the fireplace and the horcrux ritual in front of him, with Nagini sitting patiently at the center. Harry took the opportunity to get as much detail as he could, but he could only look at what Voldemort was looking at, hear what he heard, feel what Voldemort felt... perhaps Harry could get a sense of what Voldemort was thinking as well?

Instead of pulling back behind his mental shields, he pushed in a little further. Hopefully Voldemort wouldn't notice. _The potion has taken effect. The ritual is nearly ready and old Mr. Bryce will do just fine,_ Voldemort was thinking. Harry got a few flashes of memories, back when Tom Riddle was still in seventh year, seeing the old man working on the lawn when he came seeking his biological father.

The man called Voldemort a coward, daring him to turn around and look him in the eye. That struck a nerve. Voldemort swivelled the chair around and said, "I will face you, but I will tell you that I am no coward, nor am I a man. I am becoming something far greater, and you will have the honour of dying to serve my greatness." In his head, he was thinking, _this will be my sixth. Finally, the shards of my soul will be stabilized by the magical strength of the septagram and my immortality will be complete._

Harry felt a surge of magic rising inside Voldemort's body. He knew what was coming, but he had never felt a surge like this before. Instead of erupting from Voldemort's wand, it coiled around inside his body malevolently, seemingly shredding his insides. Harry had never felt a pain like this before. It wasn't a physical pain, but something much deeper down. It was like despair that had reached into his heart and was trying to rip it straight out of his body. It felt cold, like a dementor. It was like he was going to lose Sirius again. Or Hermione. He couldn't help but scream in pain, but Voldemort made no sound other than the words, "_Avada Kedavra."_

The feeling of ripping and tearing reached a climax just before the spell erupted from the wand, but Harry suddenly felt a comforting warmth pulling him back, letting him put up his shields again and retreat to the safety of being a distant observer just as the bright green spell flew at the old gardener. He tried to hang on for a little longer, noticing that Voldemort obviously never felt any of the pain that he experienced. There was a little light floating above the dead man's body, which Voldemort was now trying to direct towards Nagini. It was losing its shine quickly, as if the light was liquid dripping away and began to reveal a dark, smouldering heart. Harry felt the warmth pull him further back with more desperation. It was time to leave, he knew. As the scene dimmed, he did notice a yelp of surprise from both Wormtail and Voldemort as the Dark Lord suddenly lost control of his own soul fragment.

* * *

"Harry! What happened? This was so much worse than last time... or even at the ball," Hermione cried out. Her hands were wrapped around him and he was facing a completely different direction from when they had laid down.

He stroked her hair, telling her, "I did something a little risky. I kind of... let myself be more connected with him to try to find out some more. I don't think I'll be doing that again."

A loud clearing of the throat brought their attention to Hermione's bedroom door. Two very unhappy parents were standing there. "Get off my daughter's bed." Dan Granger's icy tone was no joke. He didn't have a shotgun like Vernon, but he was certainly skilled enough with picks and drills to cause a world of hurt. And right now, he really wanted to hurt the boy lying underneath his half-dressed daughter.

Hermione leapt up to Harry's defense. "Mum, Dad, it's not what it looks like, I swear. Just give me a chance-"

"Oh no, we'll be having a talk later," Dan said furiously. He grabbed Hermione's arm roughly and pushed her out the door with her mother. "Now, then, you're Harry, I presume?"

Harry scowled at the rough treatment of his girlfriend. Sure, Dan had good reason to be angry, and he wasn't nearly as rough as Vernon, who had often left bruises on Harry's arm when he was younger. Harry still didn't like it. It was such a dramatic change from the loving parents he lived with last time around. Instead of answering Dan's question, he looked him straight in the eye and said, "You shouldn't treat Hermione that way."

"Don't you dare tell me what I do in my own house! You're the trespasser, sneaking into my daughter's room in the middle of the night. My daughter isn't just some floozy for you to shag! I'm warning you..."

Harry calmed himself as much as possible, using his occlumency to bring forth all the best memories of the Grangers to keep himself from lashing out at the man in front of him. He knew he'd defend Hermione just as fiercely against someone he didn't know. "Hermione told you, it isn't what it looked like. Maybe you should listen to her," he said as calmly as possible.

"And what would a half-naked boy be doing in my daughter's bedroom? One step away from debauchery is still filthy, so you can keep your hands to yourself, do you hear? I don't want to see you near my daughter again!" Certainly, a boy with his shirt off, covered in sweat while his daughter was screaming his name could hardly be interpreted the right way by anybody, but Harry wasn't in the mood to defend himself. He was more worried about how much more strained Hermione's relationship with her parents would be. If it got any worse, she really would have to choose between them and Harry- something Harry wanted to avoid at all costs.

"She won't like that." Harry stated it with a perfectly level voice. He was hoping to use his occlumency training to be the voice of reason and calm in this argument, but his unnaturally peaceful tone aggravated Dan further.

"What is this, a game to you? Do you even care? That's not just some girl, that's MY DAUGHTER!" In a move that even Harry wasn't expecting, Dan punched him in the gut. Harry collapsed to the floor but was unwilling to fight back. "There's more where that came from if you don't leave right now."

"I've been struck before," Harry coughed out. "It's nothing I can't handle. But I'm not leaving if Hermione doesn't want me to."

"She doesn't know what kind of person you are."

"You _assume_ she's doesn't know what kind of person you _assume_ I am."

"You little-"

"He's right, Dan." Emma had returned and was standing at the doorway. "You've been doing a lot of telling to Hermione instead of talking."

"Stay out of this, Emma. This is a man-to-man issue. I have to deal with him."

"No, you need to deal with your daughter," Harry said. "I don't care if you hate me, sir. That doesn't matter to me. You can't keep treating Hermione the way you have this past month."

Emma was surprised at Harry's maturity and held Dan back. They managed to eke out a temporary truce while all four of them sat down in the living room to discuss things with civility. Five minutes later, all four of them were sitting around a coffee table downstairs. "Why don't we begin with you, Hermione?" Emma nodded to her daughter.

Hermione didn't know where to begin, so she said the only thing that she knew with absolute certainty. "I love Harry." She reached out and took his hand, looking defiantly at her own father. The adults mirrored the children as Emma took Dan's hand, but more to calm him down instead of reassure him.

"And I love her too," Harry said. "I'll never let anyone hurt her. Even her own parents," he said defiantly. Hermione winced at the antagonistic position Harry chose.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, shall we?" Emma tried to make peace looking back and forth between Dan and Harry.

"I just want you to step back and look at this a little more objectively, Hermione. You've always been good at that." Dan attempted to appeal to Hermione's pride with a challenge. "Forget all the material goods he's bought for you or any sweet words he told you just before you... uh, make out. Forget his celebrity status or what he's offered. Tell me something he's already _done_ for you that was truly selfless."

Hermione decided to pull out the big guns right away. "He risked his own life to save mine before we were even friends." It was a risky move, since she had downplayed the dangers at Hogwarts to her parents. Both her parents suddenly looked at Hermione like she was joking, so she elaborated. "A troll was let into the school. I wasn't at dinner at the time, so Harry came to search for me while everyone else was being evacuated."

"That's all? I guess that's rather thoughtful of him, but I really wouldn't consider that 'risking his life,' Hermione."

"He jumped on the troll's back and tried to wrestle it down because it had me cornered in a bathroom. An average troll is about twelve feet tall and weighs over half a tonne." This time both parents stared at Harry, who simply shrugged.

"I'd do it again," he said nonchalantly.

"If that's true, then we're eternally grateful to have our daughter alive, but you'd better not be taking advantage of her just because she thinks she owes you," Dan stubbornly argued. Harry wondered if he would ever be this protective of his own daughter one day.

"He could, but he'd never act on it."

"What do you mean?" all three of them asked at once. Hermione only looked at Harry as if the answer should have been obvious.

"I owe you a life debt for that, Harry. You could probably force my hand in marriage since I'd never be able to pay out the usual amount of compensation."

"And just what _is_ the usual compensation?" Dan was curious to know.

"About one million pounds," Hermione answered.

"I'd never force you like that."

"I know you won't. I trust you. I just hope that mum and dad can see that." Hermione looked over at her parents. Dan wasn't budging.

"Besides, you've saved my life plenty of times in return. Like the devil's snare. That would absolve the debt pretty easily, wouldn't it?"

"It would if you didn't keep risking your life for me again and again," Hermione giggled.

"Is this heroics thing a regular occurrence?" Emma asked them.

"Well, most of the time it's more like standing by me in the face of bullies like Draco…"

"You did land a pretty good punch on him last year," Harry commented.

"I don't want my daughter getting into fights. Don't encourage her."

"Dad, he called me a racial slur. And he'd been getting away with it because his head of house protects him. I probably would have just hid in the bathroom and cried if Harry hadn't been standing behind me." She slid closer to Harry and placed her hand on his thigh, almost daring her parents to try to split them up again.

"And I'm not just trying to be her knight in shining armour. I… respect her. She's brilliant, insightful, and she gives me direction in my life. There was a time in second year when she was in the hospital wing for… an extended period. I just felt clueless the entire time. I had no idea what to do with myself." Harry wrapped his fingers around Hermione's.

"Madam Pomfrey told me you visited every night," Hermione smiled sweetly and took Harry's other hand. "That's when I realized I loved you... but I didn't want to admit it."

"I guess it was the same for me, too," Harry said. "I almost couldn't go on without you. That's why I came to see you whenever I could. I guess you could say I fell in love with you then, but I just didn't know what I was feeling was love at the time..."

They leaned on each other, shoulder to shoulder, silently waiting for their parents judgement. Emma had her hands clasped over Dan's mouth, and slowly loosened her grip. "So, what do you think?" she whispered to him. "There _could_ be better boys for Hermione out there but I can't name one right now. Let's give him a chance."

"Still doesn't mean he can sleep in my daughter's bed," he growled.

"I'm inclined to agree," Emma said this time. "It certainly doesn't look like something appropriate for fourteen-year-olds to be doing."

"I said it wasn't what it looked like..." Hermione mumbled.

"So what was it?"

Hermione looked at Harry, unsure of how much she should reveal. Harry simply smiled and nodded, indicating that he trusted her judgement. "Harry occasionally gets visions," Hermione said. "Please keep it a secret! I'm the only one he's told."

"What do you mean by 'visions' exactly? Are we talking about the Oracle at Delphi or something like that?"

"Close enough. Anyways, this time it was pretty bad. I've never seen him thrash or scream that much before, so I... um... sat on top of him trying to hold him down on the bed."

"That still doesn't explain why you were here in the first place..."

"It's my birthday," Harry told them. No point in lying about that, since they had seen Hermione baking a cake all day and go shopping yesterday. "I don't really have any friends I can trust, you see, on account of my getting visions and everything. It's... um... an exploited talent in the wizarding world, so Hermione told me to sneak over here and she would help me celebrate."

"Your family doesn't celebrate your birthday?"

"I don't have a family," Harry said flatly. _Here we go again_, he thought.

"Oh!" Emma's fingers flew over her mouth as she realized her faux pas. "I'm sorry. Do you have foster parents?"

"Yes, but they're rather... racist. Against magical folk," Hermione explained for Harry.

"I've actually been living on my own for the past few weeks. Ever since Hermione took care of me on the last day of school while I was having another vision, I couldn't think of anyone else to turn to." Harry realized that was a perfect opportunity to extend the excuse to their first meeting with the parents. Hermione picked up on it immediately.

"I'm sorry I couldn't explain to you for the past month, dad. It wasn't my secret to share."

"Harry... if you really have no other place to go, then you can stay here," she offered, her eyes noticeably more moist.

Hermione squealed in glee and hugged both her parents together. Through her bushy hair, Dan cried, "What?"

"In the guest room, of course!"

* * *

For the next week, tensions still ran high between Harry and Dan, but Emma was much more forgiving. Thankfully the stress of their upcoming OWLs kept their minds occupied on things other than living together again. The summer remedial OWL exams were coming up and Bill still hadn't returned from his "survey." After sending him an owl, he replied that the job would take a few more days, so they decided that he knew what he was doing and concentrated on their OWLs.

The remedial OWLs were rather expensive to take. Nothing Harry couldn't afford, but obviously very few half-bloods were taking the tests. Although there were no actual restrictions regarding who could take the exams, it was obviously cost-prohibitive for all but the older and richer families to give their children a second chance. The ministry hallways weren't filled with just Slytherins, though Harry did recognize Marcus Flint, who had apparently failed a few NEWTs again. There were a few adults from the continent who had decided to immigrate to Britain and taking the WOMBATs were part of proving their competency.

Registering for the exams was also quite a chore. First, Harry had to convince the registrar that he wanted to take six exams. She boggled when Harry told her that Hermione was going to take eight. Most people only took one, maybe two exams that they had failed, since these ones were expensive and more condensed than the standard OWL at the end of the school year. Few people could handle more than three. Secondly, when she searched the education records, she found that Harry hadn't even taken the third-year courses for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, and obviously had no record of taking any fifth-year courses. At that point, she was just about ready to kick Harry out of the department for wasting her time with such a prank. It was only after Harry dropped a pile of Galleons in front of her that she finally understood that he really wanted to pay for, and take, the exams. "It's your money you're wasting, kid," was all she said. She didn't bother wishing him luck.

The following two days were horrendous for Harry while Hermione seemed to be right at home. Wake up early. Arrive at the Ministry of Magic and head to the Department of Magical Education on level 5 before 7 AM. Begin the first exam at 7:30. Break for breakfast at 10. Second exam at 10:30. Break for lunch at 1. Third exam at 1:30. Pepper-up potion. Fourth one at 4:30. Well, fourth for Hermione, at least. Harry only took three each day, going with the core classes of Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. He decided to do without Herbology or History of Magic, but Hermione handled the full load well.

They finished the days with a quick dinner before heading home. At home, Hermione went straight back to studying while Harry lay on the floor with Hedwig and Crookshanks helping him get feeling back in his right hand. At the end of the two days, both of them had nearly stopped caring about Voldemort. "Can I just defeat the Department of Education instead? They're evil. They must be evil. Why do they have to cram everything into two days?"

Hermione was stressing out for entirely different reasons. "I know! Why did so many subjects have to overlap? If they had spread it over a week, or even four days, I could have taken the Muggle Studies OWL and Astronomy! I could have even had time to study more in between the exams! I barely had time to finish eating!" Harry had a hard time debating whether or not to tell her she looked like Ron, stuffing food in her mouth as quickly as she could before racing off for the next test. Then again, he had done the same.

They were both so tired from the exams that neither of them picked up Bill's letter immediately when his owl arrived. Hermione, rubbing her forehead while lying on her bed, looked over at it. Harry was content with staying on the floor, told Hermione, "You get it."

"You're closer, Harry."

"Not vertically," he countered.

"If it's from Bill it'll be addressed to you anyways."

Harry decided with the lazy way out. "Hedwig, would you tell that owl to come down here? I'm too tired to get up." The snowy owl hopped up to the desk, leading the grey horned owl down to the floor. "Thanks, girl." He tried to untie the letter with his left hand only, failing miserably until Hedwig used her beak to hold one end of the string for him. "Thanks again, Hedwig. I'm going to have to buy you a toy for that."

"What does the letter say?" Hermione rolled on to her stomach with her head just peeping over the edge of the bed and watched Harry read the letter aloud.

_To Harry Potter_

_This is a much tougher job than I expected. Without going into too much detail, almost every ward on that property is dark, illegal, or just plain dangerous. The overall scheme will be hard to nullify with anything less than five cursebreakers working in conjunction if you want to surprise the occupants. I'd like to meet as soon as possible- tomorrow morning at the Leaky Cauldron again to discuss the contract. I've already contacted four others and a hitwizard, but it won't be cheap, I'm telling you now. They also won't wait too long for this job, so if we're going to do this, we have to do the negotiations and have our signatures inked up soon._

_William Weasley_, _Cursebreaker_.

"Sounds urgent. Let's meet him at nine tomorrow, then. That should be early enough and we can still get enough sleep," Hermione said. Harry scribbled a reply and sent it off.

* * *

Another trip with the Knight Bus and the two of them were ready for another meeting with Bill. When he arrived, he was holding plenty of parchment.

"Hello, Harry. Let me go over what we're looking at, here. Let me warn you, though, it's not going to be cheap." Harry gulped, his hand instinctively moving towards his mokeskin pouch. "We're talking a seven-layer offensive ward system anchored on five points around the property. Every one of them except for the tracking ward is illegal and dangerous. There's a magic-draining, disintegration, aging, flesh-rotting and two more that I couldn't identify properly but they look like variants of what I've found in the pharoah's tombs."

"Well, I didn't expect Voldemort to be very friendly..."

"Then there's the defensive wards... mostly the usual, unplottable, notice-me-not, forgetfulness, and the like. The interesting thing I noticed is that the wards only affect wizards. Muggles can come and go. I think You-Know-Who is luring victims in for some reason." Interesting, but not very useful. Harry could hire a team of muggle hitmen and try to kill Voldemort that way, but it probably wouldn't work anyway.

"Can you just tell me the price, then?"

"Something this risky, it's going to be about two hundred Galleons." Harry's jaw drooped. "Per person." His head dropped. "The hitwizards are probably going to be cheaper, depending on how much time it takes. Ten to fifteen galleons per day, per person is a fair amount." His shoulders dropped. "I take it you'll have trouble paying for it all?"

"Immediately, anyways. How much is that? One thousand galleons, and more for the hitwizards. Voldemort's dangerous... I hope four of them are enough. Forty to sixty galleons per day... How long do you think this should take?"

"One day, if everything goes perfectly. Nothing ever does."

"I only get five hundred galleons a year... Is there a way to spread the payments out over the next three years?"

Bill sighed. "They won't like it. They might end up charging more. I think we should do this in person." He got up and walked over to the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace to make a floo-call. A few minutes later, four people came through and greeted Bill in a familiar manner, with slaps on the back and hugs instead of handshakes. Evidently, they knew Bill quite well.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Yorick Kroyer, the man who oversaw my apprenticeship in Egypt." He looked like a big grey bear to Harry. His hair and beard were greying, but trimmed. His arms were thick and trunklike- almost like a normal-sized version of Hagrid. If Harry had to guess, he was about the same age as Professor McGonagall.

"And this is Celestine Garcia. I've crossed paths with her on the job so often we might as well be working for the same team for once," Bill chuckled. The woman, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties and dark skin, gave a friendly wave. She looked to be the type who was used to "roughing it" as her hair was even messier than Hermione's and her hands were slightly calloused.

"The last two here were my classmates in Gryffindor. We decided to become cursebreakers together. I'd like you to meet Gregory Jordan and Brigid Barnaby." Brigid held herself much more professionally than Gregory, who was treating this like a class reunion.

Gregory Jordan resembled Lee Jordan, so much that Harry couldn't resist asking, "Do you have a brother named Lee, going into sixth year at Hogwarts?"

"Yes I do. He's friends with Bill's brothers, in fact. You know him?" Harry nodded.

"Well, now that I've introduced you to the crew, I present to you our contractor- Harry Potter!" Bill proclaimed proudly. The response was underwhelming.

"Yeah, we figured that out already, Bill," Celestine told him. "How many other rich kids with lightning-bolt scars who want to take out dark lords are there in the world?"

"You really need to work on your presentation," Gregory added.

"So what have we got to talk about? Surely Harry Potter can afford our services?" They all sat down for a discussion of finances. Most of them were reluctant to not receive their money immediately, but agreed that having the Boy-Who-Lived listed as one of their clientele wasn't an opportunity to be passed over easily. Eventually, they ended up agreeing that Harry would pay a monthly fee of 37 Galleons transferred directly to Kroyer's company each month for the next three years. The first payment or two would have to go to the hitwizards, so the cursebreakers wouldn't be paid for two months after the job. That worked out to a total cost of 1332 Galleons, but that was the price to pay for not having all the money up front. It also left Harry with a small budget of 56 Galleons for himself per year, 30 of which were already spent this year on the various potions ingredients, textbooks, the OWL exams, new clothes, and spare wands for Hermione and himself. Then again, destroying Voldemort again would be worth it- right?

* * *

**Authors Chapter End Notes:**

- I've always wondered about how bad the Unforgivable curses really were. The AK just kills one person- big deal, an exploding curse could kill dozens at once. Imperius just seems like a more specific version of confundus. Cruciatus is pretty bad, I guess. In any case, in this story they will be even more unforgivable than in canon, and with that in mind they won't appear as often. I'll elaborate as the story progresses...

- I suck at writing lemon and I'm keeping this rated T anyways.

- for kids in high school, get ready for that twice a year in uni. Well, 1-hr break usually in between instead of ½, exams are 3.5 hours long instead of 2.5. 3 of those exams within 24 hours is not uncommon. And to think I'll be going back to school for more...

- chapter edited- mostly the "meeting the parents" was altered a bit, slightly less sappy and (i hope) a more realistic conversation flow.


	43. Big Blitz

**Author's Notes: **If Hermione was supposed to be JKR, was Ron supposed to be her (first) husband?

**- **I've always wondered why Voldemort would want to make a living horcrux in the first place. Seems like there would be far too many inherent weaknesses... oh well.

* * *

**Chapter 43: Big Blitz**

They approached the house on the bluff on the side away from the town, which lead them through a private graveyard. Walking through the rows of tombstones in the bright morning sun didn't ease their tensions any. They'd decided on an early day job, as Voldemort and Wormtail were more likely to be in hiding during the day. As the cursebreakers split up Harry and Hermione stuck with Bill for company. They'd insisted on coming along, even though all five cursebreakers and four hitwizards felt that, as young children, they were wholly unprepared for this kind of job. Harry took his invisibility cloak and broom for a little extra protection, as did Hermione. Bill, of course, argued that Harry was the one providing all the information on what lay inside the manor, although Harry refused to reveal how he knew it.

Prior to the beginning of the mission on the outskirts of Little Hangleton, Harry and Bill let everyone know exactly what they were looking for so that there wouldn't be any surprises. The plan for infiltrating the house was simple- the cursebreakers would position themselves on the anchor stones that Bill had scouted, destabilizing the outer, offensive wards in unison to give as little time as possible for the residents of the manor to react. The hitwizards would then attempt to simply "brute force" their way through the inner defensive wards, which were much more mundane while the cursebreakers continued to disable those, while erecting their own anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards. Once those were up, the cursebreakers would enter to back up the hitwizards. Their orders were relatively simple. Kill Voldemort and any other Death Eaters inside. Capture Peter Pettigrew alive if at all possible.

Most of them scoffed at the idea that Voldemort was still alive while still shuddering when Harry said his name aloud. None of the four hitwizards batted an eyelash at the name, though. They had simply listened to what Harry had told them, including all his odd requests like considering a large, grey rat as a high priority target to be caught alive. After Harry had given them the details, they immediately began planning their portion of the job amongst themselves, as if they'd worked together before. Mr. Kroyer explained to Harry, "They're from America, but exiled; all four of them. They call their little outfit 'The O-team.' They really are outstanding. They'll take any odd job, but I've worked with them several times. Bloody hard to get a hold of them, but they're reliable and honest. Dark Wizards and faked deaths aren't new to them."

Harry wouldn't have guessed, since the four of them seemed to be so unlike each other. The oldest one, who appeared to be their leader, kept the team in line with by barking out orders in a gruff tone while being very friendly to everyone else. The youngest one wasn't much bigger than Harry, and reminded him of Luna somewhat in the way he kept looking around at nothing in particular, as if the clouds were just as interesting as the people in front of him. Harry did notice he carried a small, compact broom on his back- was he thinking of flying around indoors, or what? The third member reminded him of Gilderoy Lockhart, in the way his hands kept moving up to his hair, as well as his pristinely-maintained skin complexion. Still, if Mr. Kroyer had actually seen this man work in dangerous situations along with the others on the team, perhaps he was the exact opposite of Lockhart. The last member of the team could only be described as big and dark. The dark-skinned man had a permanent, dark frown on his face, with long, dark dreadlocks that ran down to his neck, and mostly kept to himself while standing in the shade. Harry and Bill both needed Kroyer's reassurance that the man was, in fact, not a dark wizard himself.

The group stopped in the middle of the graveyard, with the house was still a few hundred meters away. "That's one of the anchor stones," Bill said, pointing to one of the largest headstones at the far end of the graveyard. Harry squinted, just barely making out the words, "Here Lies Thomas Riddle II, 1905-1943 and his wife Elisa Riddle, 1909-1943. In Heaven they will find the love that was taken from them on Earth." Evidently Voldemort didn't pick this one randomly. He just had to defile his own father's grave to spite his own muggle roots.

As Bill worked on the wards, Hermione watched closely, taking notes. He had to work from a distance, as any closer he'd be within the warding field, and subject to the horrible effects of the flesh-rotting and other wards. He cast some spells to reveal the runes that formed the foundation of the wards and studied them via an eyepiece. Harry couldn't follow the scheme beyond recognizing a few runes himself, but Bill was kind enough to explain how they worked, surprised that Harry knew as much as he did. He pointed out the charging runes, which drew magic up from the Earth to sustain the basic ward spells. Another one "buffered" the magic slightly, allowing them to continue to work for a minute even if the charging runes were destroyed. A resonance rune, similar to what Hermione used to detect the temporal beacon's signal, amplified the power between it and the four other anchor stones around the property. Certain other failsafes would raise an alarm as well as discharge the buffers violently in the event of damage. Much of the problem wasn't so much figuring out how to disable it- it wasn't the most complex rune foundation Bill had seen, it was just powering some of the most gruesome warding spells he'd ever encountered. The real problem was altering them at a safe distance.

"If I were a more powerful wizard, I guess I could knock out these wards from outside their range, even if they discharged in a burst," Bill explained. That made Harry wonder if Dumbledore had been powerful enough to destroy the ward from a safe distance all by himself. The old man was known to be the most powerful wizard alive, after all. Last time around, Harry's letter to Dumbledore had been enough to force Voldemort away from the comforts of home and into a cave. The old man must have been able to do something.

"Are we safe now?" Hermione asked.

"As safe as this business gets. I suggest you move back when I tell you to," Bill warned them as he continued to work. Harry and Hermione watched as Bill continued to "prod" the rune cluster with a few spells and the occasional banished pebble, causing the colouration of the runes to fluctuate.

"Big Red is ready," Bill said into a little device. He gestured to Harry and Hermione to retreat to a safe distance while he confirmed that everyone else was done at their stations. With one final spell, he overloaded the anchor stone, causing all the runes on it to sizzle and burn. Within seconds, sparks were flying and the magic in the air was visibly receding as the outer wards fell. Harry and Hermione both watched in awe as the aurora-like waves of light seemed to burn through the air.

"Piece of cake," Bill said, grinning.

"Bill! You're bleeding!" Hermione cried, pointing to his shoulder.

"Huh? That's nothing," Bill said. It was a long, but shallow gash that was most likely caused by the backlash when he first destabilized the anchor. He cast a quick _episky_ and the bleeding stopped. "You should have seen the one I got in the Valley of the Seven Dynasties. Now that's a story to tell after the job's done."

Hermione just muttered, "Boys..." as Bill ran forward. The hitwizards were already hammering at the defensive wards closer to the house, forcing their way in. They'd taken some focus philtre to get through the wizard-repelling and notice-me-not charms, and were working directly against the magic-repulsing barriers. There was very little to breaking through that barrier other than overwhelming it by focusing spells at a single point. The four of them had chosen a spot just in front of the back door of the manor.

Bill pulled some pre-made runes out of his pockets and started charging them up. They were the anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards and their own intrusion ward, except it alerted them if something escaped. Again, with perfect precision, Bill and the other cursebreakers activated them in sync, preventing the standard magical routes of escape. At about the same time that the cursebreakers finished, the hitwizards managed to overpower the final ward. They stepped through the hole before it managed to seal itself up again. Bill and the others immediately began working on permanently disabling the defensive wards while Harry waited.

The waiting was a lot harder than Harry thought it would be. He knew that the hitwizards were professionals- even his duels in the arena with Krum would be nothing compared to real-world experience that these men had. He wanted to help Bill- or tell him to hurry up, at the very least- but again, knew that Bill was far more educated in Runes, Arithmancy, cursebreaking, and real-world experience than him. Harry just stayed out of the way.

Every few seconds he would cast _tempus_, only to find the numbers had changed little. Pacing back and forth, he wondered if the hitwizards had found their target already. It had only been two minutes. The plan was to search methodically, room by room, and seal each room behind them. The manor was a pretty big place, though. It would take about half an hour to go through the whole thing- less, if Bill and the others could take the wards down more quickly.

Harry found himself distracted by drawing letters in the air. _Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am Lord Voldemort. Harry James Potter. Tempest Hay Roar Jr._ He definitely wasn't using that as his nickname if he became a dark lord.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Just wondering if I can give Voldemort another nickname," Harry said, trying again. _Tom Marvolo Riddle. Mr Radio Mold Lover t. _"One leftover letter. Darn."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, but then joined in herself. _Odd Immortal Lover_, she spelled out quickly. "How about that?"

"I don't think we should encourage him," Harry said, pointing at the middle word. He tried again. _Mr. I Loved Malt Odor._

"That's the American spelling. You can do better than that, Harry!"

"Oh, as if 'Voldemort' is proper English? It's not even good French," he complained.

"Sounds like a bad airplane disaster movie in French," Hermione added with a smile.

Bill interrupted their little game when he was done. "You kids wait here. I'm going inside, and you two had better not follow me. Stay out here where it's safe. Hide under that cloak of yours, Harry."

Despite being the main informant and financer of the operation, Harry still couldn't convince them that he should come along. Future duels weren't much in the way of evidence, and he had lost against Viktor Krum anyways. He wished the best of luck to Bill as he entered the house along with the other cursebreakers while longingly staring at the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was inside. So far, all was still quiet. Hermione was continuing with the anagram play, coming up with names for Voldemort like Mr. Dim Old Valeroot.

"You're not going in there, Harry," Hermione said, almost precognitively as Harry shifted around.

"I wasn't going to..." Harry lied. In fact, he was thinking the house was far too quiet. Perhaps they were ambushed. He was hoping to hear some crashing windows, cracking wood, and crumbling stone from a fight. Not that he wanted anyone to get hurt, but something would be nice.

"I can see it in your eyes, Harry. You need more training if you plan to fight him yourself. Promise me you won't actually try fighting him until you've got your NEWTs in Defense, Charms, and Transfiguration."

"Fine, I promise. I guess that's what I'll be doing this year, as well," Harry said. "I just want to know how the team's doing. Do you think Voldemort's even in here today?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't be," Hermione said. "I mean, we are a week late, but he still hasn't got a body yet, right? And those wards were a good indication that he's still using the house."

Harry was more worried that Voldemort's failure to create a Nagini-horcrux may have changed things. Just as he was about to reply, the anti-apparition ward rang out as something struck it. Hermione smiled, saying, "There. Someone just tried to escape!"

Harry, who had his eyes on the house the whole time, had noticed the small flash of light where the person bounced off- and it had come from the outside. "I don't think so, Hermione. Someone just tried to get in. I'm going to check it out."

"Harry! What did we just agree on? You're not supposed to fight! That's not part of the plan," Hermione nagged.

"Having reinforcements sneaking in behind them isn't part of the plan, either. And I'm not going into the house, I'm just going to find out who this is. Now come on, stay under the cloak with me!" Harry was almost ready to leave Hermione in his eagerness for action. She grudgingly followed close by as he moved towards a figure at the bottom of the hill to the side of the house.

The man was initially stumbling around haphazardly, confused about his location. He quickly realized what had happened and began running towards the house. As Harry got closer, he recognized the dirty blonde hair and the characteristic twitchiness. "That's Barty Crouch!" Harry whispered to Hermione as they approached. "We can stop him right now!" They picked up the pace, racing to intercept him before he could enter the house.

Barty, however, wasn't looking for a way in. He did a quick scan for the source of the anti-apparition wards, and immediately found one of the anchors set up by Mr. Kroyer, just outside the front hedges. Harry saw him take down one of the anchors with a simple blasting hex and begin his search for the next anchor. Unfortunately for Harry, he chose to move away from Harry without noticing him, going for the anchor on the other side of the house. Trying to keep both himself and Hermione under the cloak was slowing him down, so he left the cloak with Hermione and cast a disillusionment on himself. "You work on repairing the anchor, I'm going after Barty before he takes them all down," he said before sprinting ahead.

Barty had already found the second anchor by the time Harry was within casting range; this one was set up by Mr. Jordan. Harry focused as much power as he could into his stunner, releasing a bright red bolt of magic towards the criminal. To Harry, watching the spell streak towards its target was agonizingly long. It may as well have been hours, but in reality it was seconds. Still, two seconds was more than enough time for Barty to notice a spell and duck out of the way. The stunner streaked by him harmlessly.

With Harry sprinting to close the distance as quickly as possible, it didn't take long for Barty to notice the shimmer from the disillusionment spell. He tossed a few deadly hexes in Harry's direction, which were easy enough for the agile teen to dodge. Behind him, several hedges caught fire and bits of grass went flying as the spells impacted the yard. As he got closer, Harry could finally get a good look into Barty's eyes and used his legilimency to predict the man's actions. From here on out, dodging the spells would be a piece of cake, except for the fact that Barty didn't only use spells.

The man reached into his cloak and dropped several little balls that immediately began bouncing towards Harry. Despite each one being about the size of a golf ball, they made a meter-wide crater in the dirt on every bounce. They would be deadly, but they weren't an immediate concern for Harry as long as he kept moving. Harry kept his wand on Barty, aiming to slow the man down with liberal use of sticking charms and quicksand enchantments on the ground. He wanted to avoid breaking eye contact, since Barty was far less predictable than most other wizards. Barty, on the other hand, concentrated mostly on defense with his wand-work, using his other hand to pull out a set of winged knives. They fluttered in the air for a second, much like pointy Snitches, before shooting straight towards Harry. His decision to keep reading Barty's intentions proved useful, as now he knew the knives were tipped with poison- a mere scratch could be deadly.

Harry turned his attention away from Barty and concentrated on shooting the knives out of the air. Catching a snitch was second nature to Harry, but dodging seven of them at once when they flew towards him instead of away was much more difficult. On top of that, the bouncy balls were surrounding him as well, and he was getting tired jumping back and forth. As he blasted another knife out of the air, a burst of magic from behind him banished the balls far away from him, creating huge dents in the side of the house where they impacted.

"You think I'm just going to sit back and let you fight a madman alone?" Hermione's voice came from behind him as one of the knives was transfigured into stone, dropping straight to the ground. She was still under the invisibility cloak

"Sorry. Wasn't thinking." The two of them quickly destroyed the rest of the weapons, only to realize that Barty had disappeared. Neither one noticed if the man had entered the manor or fled, but Harry had to admit if Barty had continued fighting, he probably wouldn't have survived. In fact, the knives and balls alone would have been enough to kill most wizards who weren't also Quidditch seekers. "You saved my life again, so don't you dare think I could ever owe you a life debt," Harry told her, semi-jokingly.

"And next time, don't just leave me behind. We could have planned it better and coordinated it, you know," Hermione told him with a scathing tone.

"I didn't think there was time!" Harry complained. "Now, did you see where he went?"

"I saw him head inside," Hermione said. "Don't tell me you're thinking of following him in there..."

"We have to warn them!" Harry countered, which set off a tense staring contest between the two of them.

* * *

Peter paid no mind when the wards first sounded. A mere three days after the botched horcrux ritual, the day he recovered from the painful _cruciatus_ curses from Voldemort, he had scurried around the house all through the night, casting compulsion charm after compulsion charm on the teens who kept showing up to wreck the house. He'd panicked, thinking they had been found out, and nearly revealed Voldemort himself when he attacked the first group and had to obliviate the others. The only difference was that this time, they had finally come in broad daylight.

It seemed that, in a small town in the middle of summer, there was very little to do. When the caretaker of the "haunted" Riddle Manor was dead, a few of the geriatrics at the local pub may have mourned, but the children were finally happy to explore the mysterious house without being chased off by anybody. Night after night, a group would dare, or be dared, to go up there, but by the next morning none of them could recall actually approaching the house. Not so eager to end the summer with a reputation for cowardice, many of them volunteered for second, third, or fourth attempts at breaking in, or at least spraying some graffiti on the windows to prove they'd been successful. It was no surprise, then, that Peter Pettigrew quickly learned to ignore the children and adjust the wards so they only reacted to the presence of wizards. Muggles were harmless to the Dark Lord, after all.

Voldemort was in the next room, deciphering old texts on the horcrux ritual. He knew that no other wizard had managed to create six horcruxes- perhaps there was an unforeseen barrier to splitting the soul into seven pieces. Only one other wizard had ever attempted more than one horcrux, and he had only made two, creating a three-part soul. Perhaps it was simply unwise to make a horcrux out of a living creature- even a naturally enduring creature like Nagini. Wormtail himself could have been the factor. He couldn't recall what error the little turncoat had made, but it felt good to punish him anyways. Upon hearing the alarms sound for several minutes without shutting off, he animated his chair to take him to the next room.

"Wormtail! I thought you said you dealt with those muggle children already! How hard is it to cast a Fear Ward?"

Peter whimpered. He wasn't going to talk back, but he _had_ cast a fear ward. Those blasted muggles just didn't act logically in any way at all. He'd seen them tripping over each other to get away when the fear ward activated only to come back again the next night. This just meant he had to take care of those blasted kids by himself. "Yes, my lord... I'll see that they won't disturb you again, my lord."

He first looked out the front windows. He couldn't see anyone there, which was odd. Most of the children liked to throw toilet paper or rotten eggs at the front of the house, where the damage would be the most visible. He scrambled over to the kitchens and looked out the side of the house. He couldn't see anything there, either. Now he was getting worried- the longer the wards continued to sound, the angrier Voldemort would be, and the worse his punishment would be. When he reached one of the rear windows, he froze at the sight of four wizards breaking through the inner wards. He was shaken out of his trance when they burst through the back door and his self-preservation instincts took over. He shrunk to his rat form to avoid a burst of spellfire and scurried away.

"Huh. So there _was_ a rat to catch. He's all yours, Ace," the oldest man said to the youngest one. With a wild grin, "Ace" mounted his compact broom and began an indoor seeker's game.

* * *

Voldemort heard the crash and immediately knew that there was an intruder, and a skilled one at that. He wondered what wizard would have been able to penetrate his wards so quickly, and why they would do it at all. He'd picked this little, backwater muggle town not just to spite his father, but because of the total lack of magical presence. In fact, there weren't even any muggleborn children living here, no leylines for miles, no magical artifacts or ancient ritual sites buried beneath the earth nearby- the only reason for a wizard to stumble across this place was by mistake. The wards were harmful, but nearly undetectable- someone had to be targeting this house specifically to even realize the wards existed.

The timing couldn't have been worse. He had just recovered from the failed horcrux ritual and decided to send Barty out to continue gathering parts for his golem body. His current body couldn't even move, and if he did any powerful magic it would degrade even more quickly. The worst part, though, was the fact that he had one of his horcruxes in the building. If anybody discovered that, they would uncover the secret to his immortality.

He'd intended to put it away someplace safer after he'd turned Nagini into a horcrux. After that, his final horcrux would be able to seek him out and help him with his revival in case he was destroyed, instead of agonizingly working for an entire decade before being able to return to a physical body. It was ingenious; something else that the others hadn't considered. The existence of a horcrux was enough to keep a soul on the mortal plane, but its physical presence was required to ensure the transfer of a soul into a new body. He could barely move himself, and now he certainly couldn't get the cup out of the way.

_~Nagini!~_ he hissed. _~Carry me downstairs, we will barricade ourselves in the cellar while Wormtail distracts them.~_ The snake wrapped the fetus-like body of the Dark Lord with its tail and began slithering down. Voldemort cast several obstructive charms on all the doors they passed.

He couldn't depend on a fool like Wormtail to save him. He could only hope that Barty Crouch Jr. would return from his little hunting trip in time. He didn't want to be thwarted now and spend another decade scrounging around, possessing snakes and other small animals.

* * *

When the five cursebreakers entered the house, they found it was a mess- but there was very little trace of magic having been used, other than what had already been planned. Room after room was marked and sealed as "searched" while paintings, lights, and furniture were smashed or knocked over. They met up with the hitwizards at the main stairway. "You boys look like you're on vacation. What's going on, Lecter?"

"Didn't expect this job to be so easy. Caught ourselves target number two already," the leader said, gesturing towards Ace, who was haphazardly swinging around a conjured cage with a rat inside.

"And targets number one and three?"

"We think he's downstairs- those doors are the only ones with magical locks on. Don't think the last one's here today. We couldn't figure out what spells he was using. We tried smashing through them, but we've exhausted our cursebreaking knowledge. It would be better to have one of you guys unlock them for us. Any takers?"

Bill rolled his eyes. "Let's just get this done, shall we? Harry was spoiling for a fight outside. If we take any longer he'll probably come flying in himself."

Ten minutes later, Harry did just that. "Barty Crouch is here!" he shouted at the first person he saw, who happened to be Mr. Jordan. "He's somewhere in the house!"

Jordan wasted no time informing the others with his communicator. "Buccaneer to everyone: target number three is somewhere in the house." To Harry, he quickly asked, "What are you doing here? You're the client! You're supposed to wait outside where it's safe!"

"True, but we had to stop Barty ourselves when he tried to take down the anti-apparition wards. I think a few of you guys should have stayed outside."

"Yeah, well, everything's clearer in hindsight. Just stay away from the cellar. We've got target number one pinned down in there and Bill's working on breaking through the locks. He's got backup, don't worry. The rest of us are searching the house for anything we may have missed."

Hermione nudged Harry and said, "What did I tell you? They've got everything under control."

"You're right. Let's-" Harry paused as his vision faded for a second, just long enough to see a small door in a dark room. He heard the words "_Avada Kedavra"_ as a green jet of light shot towards the door in front of him before the vision faded. He found himself kneeling on the ground as Hermione held him.

"What was that about?" Jordan asked.

"Voldemort. He's just used a killing curse," Harry breathed. He immediately took off towards the stairs to see what had happened. The sounds of explosions and curses quickly led him downstairs, where three of the hitwizards were throwing destructive spells down a narrow corridor. The small door at the end seemed to be holding. The big, dark hitwizard was carrying Bill's limp body over his left shoulder while retreating.

Harry got another short vision just before the well-groomed hitwizard shouted, "Watch out!" Another sickly green curse flew through the door as everyone pressed their backs against the walls. It was now evident that Voldemort had picked this room to hold his last stand for a reason- there was only one way in, and it was a narrow corridor that prevented everyone from overwhelming him.

The hitwizards' leader arrived and began barking orders. "Bear, put Mr. Weasley down upstairs. Backhand and Ace, you're with me. You cursebreakers can just make sure he doesn't come out, right? Don't try to enter. It's too dangerous. Just keep him pinned down. Boys, we need to jimmy something up."

Harry followed Bear upstairs, where he lay Bill down on the floor. He looked like he could wake up at any moment- his body was still warm, his skin was still flush. It was only the lack of breathing that clued them in to his current state. Hermione was looking up and down his body in disbelief. "Harry? Is he...?" He didn't need to check for a pulse. The only spell that could have passed through both magical and physical barriers, the only unblockable spell, was _Avada Kedavra_. Harry had watched the spell being cast from Voldemort's perspective in an unexpectedly powerful retaliation, hitting them just before they could break through to his safe room. As he sat by Bill's body, his vision shifted to Voldemort's several more times until a pair of simultaneous crashes ended the fighting.

One came from downstairs, which was quickly accompanied by some cheering. The second one was upstairs, and Harry saw a shower of splinters rain down outside as Barty Crouch fell from the roof, hitting the ground softly with the help of multiple cushioning charms. He was carrying an odd object in a sack as he ran towards the edge of the anti-apparition wards, with a dark, smoky spectre trailing behind him. Harry wanted to chase after him again, but Hermione held his arm. "You won't catch him before he gets away," she said. Sure enough, half a minute later he disappeared with a small pop.

The hitwizard team and Mr. Jordan emerged from the bottom of the stairwell and was joined by Kroyer and Barnaby, who were supporting Garcia on their shoulders. The older woman was bleeding from the abdomen and appeared to be only semi-lucid. "We need to get to St. Mungo's, fast. I think those knives had poison," Kroyer told the group. Harry could only nod as the young hitwizard took out his broom, cast a levitation charm on Garcia and quickly escorted her out to the edge of the wards, using a portkey straight to the hospital. Barnaby and Jordan both ran to the side of their former classmate, in shock at what had happened.

"Target three got away. Sorry about that, Harry," Kroyer said. "He had a few more tricks up his sleeves than we thought."

"More like dark objects," Barnaby spat. She turned to the other hitwizards. "What happened with Bill?"

"AK. I'll be honest, I haven't met many wizards who were capable of using it, and never more than once in a single fight. This Voldemort fellow of yours tossed five of them out in the past half-hour. There's no saving his soul," said "Backhand."

"On the bright side, we did manage to drop the ceiling on him," their leader said as he lit up a pipe. "Not much down there except a big dead snake- if it is what I think it is, it could fetch some good coin. Some cursed cup, too. We can hand that over to the Unspeakables and see what they think of it. Probably get a reward out of that, as well."

"Bear" patted Harry and Hermione on the shoulders. "Death happens in this line of business," he said. "Mr. Weasley was no fool. He knew what he signed up for." That was the only condolence he could offer the teens.

Objectively, only a single death and one major injury while vanquishing Voldemort again, retrieving one horcrux, killing a basilisk, and capturing Peter Pettigrew could be counted as a success. Unfortunately, that death just had to be the brother of several of his friends, and he was the one who had proposed the job to him. How could he face the Weasley family again?

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- The hitwizards were originally supposed to just be four faceless mooks, but now i'm wondering if they should be recurring characters...

- Yes, the AK goes through physical barriers in this AU. It wouldn't be nearly as scary a spell if all you had to do was conjure a block of wood or something to intercept it. The maximum range depends on the user, but when it's cast, it will continue to fly until hit hits something with a soul and removes that soul from its body.


	44. Woes of Weasleys

**Author's Notes: **Profiting from writing is for people like JKR, not me.

- Yay! Crossed the half-million view mark!

- A reviewer pointed out the "speed of magic." I'm also trying to be consistent with this. In my view, some magic is instantaneous with no "magic bolt" flying from the wand- spells like transfiguration, conjuration, and accio. Those work instantly, but have very limited range and require more mental focus. The spells that DO have a "magic bolt" generally fly at around 200-250 km/h- about the speed of a professional tennis serve. Fast, but not so fast it's invisible to the naked eye. Duelling arenas are about the same size as a tennis court, 20m in length, which allows for fast-paced action. maximum ranges, however, depend on the strength of the caster- for Harry, it's just over 100m. I might explore these concepts in a later chapter.

- Go on youtube and watch A Very Potter Musical. It's hilarious. It's also one of the reasons why I took so long with this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 44: Woes of Weasleys**

It was Mr. Kroyer who broke the news to the Weasleys first. While Harry was helping Hermione cope with Bill's death at her home, the wizard visited the Burrow the same evening and explained to a devastated family that their eldest child would not be returning to them. As he was technically Bill's employer as the contract was written out, he felt obligated to be the one to tell them. It was simply part of his job, after all. This kind of event was not foreign to him; this was the fifth time he had to approach an employee's family over his long career. The entire family, save Charlie, had gathered into the living room, not knowing what to make of Kroyer's grim expression. He went straight to the point.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your eldest son, William Weasley, died this afternoon."

The family was already prepared for bad news, but not this bad. Bill's hand on the Weasley family clock was stuck on "Mortal Peril," since there was no position for "deceased." They had been hoping to hear that he was merely at St. Mungo's. All the Weasleys were shocked into silence. Arthur was the first to speak. "Are... are you sure? How... how did it happen?"

Molly, on the other hand, was shaking her head, muttering quietly, "I knew I shouldn't have let him run off after he graduated..." Already the tears in her eyes were flowing, preventing her from looking at Mr. Kroyer directly.

"Let me first assure you that William was a top-notch cursebreaker. He did nothing wrong professionally; he was hit with something none of us predicted."

"And... and what was that?"

"The Killing Curse. The only consolation I can give is that he died quickly."

"That's preposterous!" Percy shouted, rising to his feet. "That's an Unforgivable curse! Nobody in their right mind would cast that! They would have broken the law! The Ministry would have sent aurors!"

"You work for the Ministry, don't you, laddie?" Percy lifted his chin with some pride, until he noticed Kroyer didn't mean it as a compliment. "First, our target wasn't in his right mind. That much should be obvious. Secondly, the breach of _law_ is the least of your concerns after casting such a curse. And lastly, the Ministry can't send aurors to investigate something they're not even aware of. That's why we were called in."

"You could have alerted the Ministry..."

"And they would have sent one bumbling inspector from the Improper Use of Magic office, our target would have fled, and you'd have been left with nothing. In fact, our client believes that's happened once already before he managed to track him down to his present location."

"That's slander!" Percy shouted, ready to defend his new employer.

"Perce... just shut it," Fred said angrily. "This is about our brother, not your Ministry."

"Yeah, what I want to know is who that client was," George said. "And why Bill?

Thankfully, client confidentiality was also something he'd had great experience in. Harry Potter could reveal that he had ordered the job if he wanted to, but Kroyer knew that was Potter's decision, not his. "If you're thinking of petty revenge, I can assure you my client is just as distraught over his death as you are. There's no need to add to their grief. As to your second question, it was really the luck of the draw. There were several others in the team and he simply volunteered to be the one to work on breaching the final door. Do you have any other questions for me?"

"Where is his body? There is a body, right?" Molly was still weeping and looking at the floor as she asked.

"Yes... as you know, the Killing Curse does no physical harm to the body. His body is being held at the St. Mungo's morgue for investigation, but I don't believe it will reveal anything. Is there anything else?"

"I wonder how much was he being paid for that job?" Ron wondered a little too loudly.

Molly pinched Ron's ear, angrily shouting, "Ron! How could you think about money at a time like this?"

"Actually, Mrs. Weasley, that is something I almost forgot to mention. His share of the work will be approximately one hundred and fifty galleons, but it will be paid monthly over the next three years." Molly was still too busy reprimanding Ron, so Arthur escorted Mr. Kroyer to the door, thanking him for informing them. The minute the man as gone, the family broke apart and all the kids ran upstairs, while the parents stayed in the kitchen. Arthur consoled his wife as best he could, but she was already attempting to distract herself with cooking.

"Okay, the kids... the kids will need something to eat. Grieving on an empty stomach will only make things worse," she said, frantically buttering a frying pan. The fact that they only just had dinner before Kroyer's arrival didn't stop her.

"Molly..."

"Oh, and we need to prepare for the funeral... and the wake. Do we have enough to make refreshments? We might have to pick up some supplies in town..." She quickly switched over to rummaging through the cupboards.

"Molly..."

"How many people are we going to invite? Do you think Harry would come? He's never met Bill, has he? Well, we'd better call Charlie back home before... before those dragons..." She broke down into tears again. "Where did we go wrong, Arthur?"

Arthur pulled her in close. "Molly, that's enough. Charlie will be fine." He glanced at the clock, hoping he wasn't jinxing himself. Charlie's hand was resting on "Work." "Biil... he was already his own man by the time he graduated from Hogwarts. You couldn't force him away from his passion, Molly, but he always remembered to visit whenever he could spare some time. I'm sure he was thinking about us when he died. We... we raised a good son, the best son anyone could hope for. We did nothing wrong, Molly."

"But... but why now? He told us he would be settling into Gringotts for a banking job! No more traipsing around the mountains and deserts anymore! Was it something I said? It was when I said I told him to finally settle down and find a nice witch, wasn't it? He wasn't ready to settle down, was he? Did he want more adventure? Was I...?"

"It had nothing to do with you, Molly. Bill... he told me he was just taking one more job before he left. He said the money was good, it would be quick, and he'd give us half of it when he was done." Molly turned her puffy red eyes towards Arthur, unable to get the words out. "Yes, Molly... I knew. He told me a day before he left. The only reason he didn't tell you was because he knew you'd make a fuss over it. He was thinking of the whole family when he signed on."

After laying his wife down on the bed, Arthur penned the letter to summon Charlie back home. It wasn't until he watched the owl fly off that he finally allowed himself to break down, weeping silently at his desk to avoid waking Molly.

* * *

"Ron! How could you be such a prat and ask a question like that? Bill's dead and you're thinking of money!" Ginny nearly tore Ron's ear off in anger when they got upstairs.

"Because I think I know who hired him. I wanted to know what he thought Bill's life was worth." Seeing Ginny's horrified expression, he explained further. "About two weeks ago, just before Bill bought his flat... Harry's owl came flying in."

"Yeah?" Ginny was afraid of what Ron was implying.

"Only Hedwig wasn't carrying an owl for me. It was for Bill."

"No... don't tell me..."

"I dunno. I wasn't going to snoop in Bill's mail. But after that, Bill finally moved to his own place, so I don't know if he was getting any more letters from Harry."

"But Harry doesn't even know Bill! Why would he...?"

"I don't know that, either. Bloody hell, Ginny. I don't like thinking it either, but maybe Harry got Bill killed." Ron's head slumped as he sighed. "For a hundred and fifty Galleons. That's what Bill was worth?"

"Don't say that!" Ginny ran out of Ron's room and into her own. Ron didn't pay her any mind. At this point, his mind was reeling- he hadn't thought much about Hedwig contacting Bill, but now that he had remembered it seemed to be coming into place. Harry said he'd give up his riches to have his parents back before, didn't he? Ron knew that he'd give anything to have Bill back. He didn't have a hundred and fifty Galleons, but that was chump change compared to a brother.

Ron always looked up to Bill and Charlie. Bill, the Head Boy. Charlie, the Quidditch Captain. Before he ever attended Hogwarts, he wanted to be just like his two oldest brothers. But then, on the train, he'd met Harry Potter himself and became his friend! None of his other brothers- heck, none of the other wizards his age could claim the same thing. He didn't concentrate quite so hard on his studies as his brothers. He was the friend of Harry Potter! They'd had adventures together and he would become more famous than even Percy, who was trying to become Minister of Magic. In hindsight, it was really stupid. Bill was dead. One less brother to beat, huh? That was so _wrong_. That was so _stupid_. Bill didn't have any brothers to outshine, but he worked hard and did brilliantly.

Ron looked down at his bedsheets. A long time ago, they used to be Bill's. He even sat with Ron in them when he was little, reading him his bedtime stories while Mum and Dad were too busy with Ginny.

"_What story do you want to hear, Ron?"_

"_Babbity Rabbity! Babbity Rabbity!" Ron jumped up and down on the mattress._

"_Whoa, careful there, little bro. You know these are my favourite sheets? Don't wreck 'em. It's why I like sitting here and reading your stories so much!"_

_Heh. Bill's favourite sheets. How did I forget that?_ Ron wondered. He was the last to have them, since Ginny got nice new pink ones. He was so jealous of Ginny. He had the oldest hand-me-downs because he was the smallest. Ginny was special because she was a girl. His were holey, stretched, and slightly stained. Mum did a good job repairing them, but magic couldn't make things perfect. He always knew that one day, he would finally outgrow his sheets. Now, he no longer wanted to. _Sorry, Bill. I didn't take care of them like I should have._ He picked up his tattered copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard and began reading to himself.

* * *

Ginny rushed to her room, instantly burying her face into her pillow. Ron was being a stupid prat again. How could he think about money at a time like this? And he said Harry Potter was the one who led Bill to his death. That was so _stupid_. Harry was a hero. He saved her from Tom in her first year at Hogwarts. Bill was her hero, too. Every summer when he came back from Hogwarts, he'd taken care of her. She didn't really remember the first few years, but he always teased her about how she accidentally called him "daddy" at the end of his third year summer because he was home so often while Arthur was working long shifts at the Ministry to support his family. Bill had practically raised her when her father couldn't, doing whatever he could to help ease the burden of raising seven children from his mother.

Every summer, when Bill came back home, he would treat Ginny to endless piggyback rides and tummy rubs. He even raised her up to reach the cookie jar, which Mum always left on the top shelf, so she could reach in and grab one all by herself. When Bill graduated from Hogwarts, she was only seven years old, and that was the saddest day of her life until today. Bill was all grown up, and she still didn't quite understand why he was going away. Until that point, she had expected him to be there for her every summer. It took her another few years to get used to the fact that Bill would only be able to visit during the holidays.

Then there was Harry Potter. Her hero. Mum read her bedtime stories of Harry, who would swoop in to save the day and make everything right. But when he came into her life for real, she could barely speak five words to him. He was living in her house! In fact, he was living in Bill's room... and still, she couldn't summon up the courage to introduce herself. For all she knew, the Sorting Hat dumped her into Gryffindor just because the rest of her family went there. The following year was a mess, with the diary and the blackouts and being too scared to ask for help- but Harry had saved her.

The following year, Harry didn't save her at all. Because of how irritable and moody she had been her entire first year, she didn't make many friends. That was okay; she could handle herself. Harry couldn't fly into the girls' dorms anyways. Bill was the one who reassured her via owl post that she would be all right. She just needed to hold her head up high, stop talking to Myrtle so much, and find someone with some common interest. It started off with Colin Creevy, the only person who was more obsessed about Harry Potter than she was, but from there her circle of friends grew. When the older Slytherins like Malfoy had been bullying her, Harry couldn't rescue her. If he wasn't in class, he was at Quidditch, or taking extra lessons somewhere. He wasn't around much, that year. But Bill taught her the bat-bogey hex, a very entertaining and useful spell. At the end of the year, Harry hadn't come to her rescue once. But he did come to the rescue of Buckbeak the hippogriff.

She should have seen it then. Harry wasn't her hero. He was everyone's hero. She wasn't any more important than some magical beast. Bill, however, had always made time for her. She didn't need to hope for Bill to have an answer for her, she just needed to write him a letter and he would always write back. She pulled open one of her desk drawers where she kept Bill's letters. It was one of the first ones she'd written to him after he took up his cursebreaking apprenticeship.

_Dear Ginny,_

_Did you know you're the first one to write to me since I arrived in Egypt? Even Mum hasn't written to me yet. It makes me so happy to know you're still thinking of me. I know you miss me, and I miss you too. But you have to remember; just because you miss someone doesn't mean you've forgotten them. I won't forget you and I know you won't forget me._

_Don't cry any more, Ginny _(She'd wondered for years about how he knew she was crying, but now she remembered some of her tears had dripped onto the parchment as she was writing her letter). _You're a big girl now. I know Mum isn't always around, but you're very talented and I've seen you collect eggs from the chicken coop and cook them all by yourself. I've seen you sneak out to the broom shed and fly all by yourself. I didn't tell Mum because I'm so proud of you and I don't want you to stop. Now, the next holiday is Halloween, so when I get back then I want to show you how to make pancakes and start you on some chaser practice. Make me proud, Ginny._

_Love,_

_Bill_

Ginny put the letter down. When had she stopped writing to Bill? She couldn't quite remember, but it was probably around first year. It was the combination of finally going to school, seeing Harry Potter every day, and the diary. That stupid diary was so much more convenient compared to Bill. It reassured her, let her talk on and on for hours about Harry Potter or her school subjects or her family every single night. Why _had_ she stopped writing? It was like the diary had hogged all her attention for itself. That year was such a waste... she could have had another stack of parchment to remember Bill by if she'd only followed her father's advice- don't trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain. Bill would have followed that advice.

* * *

Percy had great amount of pride in his work. He had a great amount of pride in his older brothers. He didn't, however, have a great amount of pride in his older brother's work. He never understood why Bill, with the marks he held, chose to go into such a dangerous and dirty line of work like cursebreaking. He was the top of his year, Head Boy, and had a position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, although he wasn't captain. He could have worked his way up to Undersecretary to the Minster by now! To his surprise, it was his two younger brothers that explained it to him.

"He does what he likes and he excels at it, Perce," George said.

"Yeah... I believe Kroyer when he said that Bill took on what the Ministry failed at."

"If Bill couldn't handle it..."

"Then the Ministry certainly couldn't have." Fred knew he was exaggerating slightly, but he didn't mind remembering his brother with pride.

"Yes, but he could have had a respectable, well-paying position in something _other_ than cursebreaking!" Percy argued. "He wouldn't have gotten himself killed!"

"If there was one word you couldn't use to describe Bill..."

"...It would be 'boring.' And the Ministry is dead boring."

"It is not! It's a highly respected!"

"People respect money too, Perce, and it's nothing but a pile of metal."

"That's right. Lifeless. I mean, take a look at Dad."

"Our father simply doesn't have the ambition to rise higher! He spends all his spare time in his shed playing with muggle trinkets! I'll surpass him by the time I'm thirty, I can tell you that much." Percy haughtily lifted his chin.

"And thank goodness he hasn't," snorted Fred.

"Yeah, if he spent any more time signing papers he wouldn't have any time left for, you know, _being our father_."

"Not to mention those fantastic little contraptions he showed us the other day..."

"The wind-up cars?"

"You two are always thinking of nothing but games and toys! You'd never understand how important it is to hold a respectable job!" Percy was about to push the twins out of his bedroom, but the two of them easily overpowered him and sat him back down, flanking him.

"No, Percy, what you'd never understand is how important it is to hold a _passionate_ job."

"Bill's the one who explained that to us."

"You see, when you're at the ministry, the most excitement you could ever hope for is to sign your name with a pink quill."

"Charlie understood that. It's why he went to Romania."

"Bill was happy where he was. Do you remember our vacation last year?" Percy nodded. He mostly remembered how hot, stuffy, stinky, and dirty it was. He wanted to stay indoors, but Bill worked out in the fields.

"You sure? You were too busy complaining," Fred pointed out.

"The point is, Perce, Bill was happy. He was smiling when he came out of the tomb and smiling when he broke through the door. He was happy the whole time, and it wasn't because we were there to visit."

"So?" Percy didn't see where the twins were going with this. He could be perfectly happy with desk work.

"Do you remember the time we visited Dad at work?" Percy nodded again. It was when he first felt like he should be like his father and take a position in the ministry, after all. He must have been only... nine or ten years old. Just before he went to Hogwarts.

"Do you remember what the work was like?" Before Percy could nod, Fred interrupted.

"You sure? All three of us got so bored watching Dad sign papers we ended up exploring."

"Yeah, and you know what we saw?"

"_Inferi._" George suddenly stuck his face in front of Percy's.

"This is no time for your stupid jokes, Fred."

"I'm George! Anyways, what I mean is they may as well have been Inferi. All they did was sit there, grab some parchment, scribble something, and repeat. Over and over and over."

"I think I was hypnotized for a while just watching them. It's like watching a clock."

"Yeah, I'm glad Dad at least gets to fiddle with some Muggle thingamabobs."

"You're as good as dead if you just do that, day in and day out."

"If Bill was in the ministry, the only place that would have suited him would have been the DMLE. And that's no more dangerous than being a cursebreaker."

"His line of work may have killed him, Perce..."

"But he told us it also made him feel alive."

* * *

Harry and Hermione had debated daily whether or not to let the Weasleys know they were the clients. In the end, they decided it was only right to let the family know. Having been estranged from Ron all of last year, Harry was hoping it couldn't be much worse. After the funeral would be the opportune time to do it. At first, they were unsure whether they'd even be invited, but the two of them sent an owl requesting to be at the funeral, having "heard of Bill's death through other channels."

Harry knew that the family also wouldn't be getting anything more from him than Bill's share of the contract and he wanted to do more for them, but Hermione pointed out that simply donating more money to them would have been both suspicious and patronizing. They decided to arrive early with several extra bouquets of flowers as well as some store-bought food and drink, helping to ease the load from Molly.

"Harry! You didn't have to bring all this!" Molly said, seeing him entering the Burrow with several trays and bouquets behind him. Despite Hermione making sure his dress robes and tie were perfect, Molly still managed to fuss over him as he signed the guestbook, his name clearly visible as the first one in the book. Hopefully it wouldn't cause any unwanted extra attention.

"I just... I felt like I had to," Harry said. "I didn't want you to overwork yourself on a day like this. I mean... you're like family to me." It was only partially an excuse, after all. He really did want to help out the Weasleys however he could. He greeted the other family members and helped them finish setting out the chairs, flowers, food, and drink.

As the guests arrived, it was fortunate that Harry had chosen to bring extra food. Bill had made many friends in Egypt, as well as during his time at Hogwarts, so there were far more people than the Weasleys expected had come to pay their respects. The cursebreakers who last worked with Bill were all there, including Ms. Garcia, who had made a full recovery. It made them a little happier to think that, at the very least, Bill would be well-remembered. The open casket showed Bill's unmarred body- that was the result of an _Avada Kedavra_, after all. As more and more guests filtered in, Ginny and Molly were having trouble keeping up with the refreshments, so Harry decided to call on Dobby.

"Do you know how to serve the guests at a funeral, Dobby?" Harry asked when the little house-elf arrived. Hermione decided to recolour his multicoloured tea-cozy into a more appropriate black.

"Oh, yes, Dobby has been having much experience with dead wizards, yes." Harry didn't know what to make of that before Dobby popped away. After that, Ginny and Molly were free actually talk to their many guests.

After everyone had finally settled in, the eulogies began. One of them was from Elania Dorwhick, who was the Head Girl at Hogwarts the year Bill was Head Boy. She lauded him as both hard-working yet easygoing person who held himself to the highest standard, but never allowed himself to be haughty enough to be unapproachable. Harry noticed the younger Weasleys giving Percy a few looks during that part of the speech.

Charlie was the next one to give his eulogy. Harry noticed how his immense strength he'd attained from a few years of dragon-handling seemed to shrink away as he began his speech. "I always looked up to Bill. We all did, I'm sure. And that's not just because he was so tall," he joked, managing a small smile. "He was the epitome of everything that made a Weasley. He gave a part of himself to every one of his younger siblings. Ginny, you received his bravery, more than anyone. He'll be proud of the woman you'll become. Ron, you've got his passion. He always put his whole heart into everything he did. Use your heart to fuel your achievements, and I think Bill would be happy with the results. Fred, George, you got his creativity. I don't know how many of your tricks he taught you and how many you two came up with on your own- but all I have to say is don't stop. Just don't turn Bill's grave into a prank-filled tomb, alright?" Even the twins were crying too hard at this point to make a joke, but Charlie continued. "Percy, you have his ambition. He wanted to show the world what it meant to be a Weasley and what we're capable of. You can be a great man, Percy, and you'll always have Bill's support."

Charlie sighed and glanced at the casket behind him. "And I received his strength. I can tell you a funny story about how that one happened. It started with a fight, actually. I was five, I think, and he was seven. We were rolling an old quaffle around, playing some ground-Quidditch. Bill was beating me handily, so I got the bright idea that tackling him would be the best way to stop him from scoring. We were wrestling on the ground for a while and I finally took possession. Well, Bill wasn't very happy about it, but I guess even then he realized a five-year-old doesn't really get to beat a seven-year-old very often so he let me keep doing it every time we played. I know we got into a lot of trouble with Mum for that... but it was so fun that I'm wrestling dragons now." Charlie had finally begun to tear up, forcing him to pause occasionally for the remainder of his speech.

"And finally, Mum and Dad. Y-you gave him love, kindness, a-and care. Bill went on to share all of that wi-with the rest of us. And I'd very much like to think that he gave you p-pride. You raised him well and I'm proud to call him my brother. You can always be proud to call him your son, because he's the person the rest of us should all strive to be. W-We haven't lo-lost him, Mum and Dad. A bit of Bill lives on in all of us."

After a few more speeches and a moment of silence, all of the guests were handed a charmed card, which was a portkey to the graveyard in Ottery St. Catchpole. Arthur and his five remaining sons lifted the casket and were whisked away to the grave. The guests all followed immediately. As the casket was lowered into the open grave, Harry took a look at Ron's face. He'd never seen Ron so solemn, determined, and focused. The last rites were read, and then the grave was packed and filled with a simple swish and flick of a wand. Harry couldn't help but stare at the freshly packed dirt as the rest of the guests began to leave.

As the last few guests were leaving, he approached Arthur and Molly. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley... Hermione and I need to talk to you," Harry said.

* * *

The entire family gathered in the living room. Hermione held Harry's hand to give him a little more courage, as having eight pairs of eyes looking expectantly at him was a little unnerving. "I... uh... I'd like to say... or confess something... How should I put this?"

Hermione spoke up for him. "What he's trying to say..."

Harry interrupted by whispering into her ear, "No, I should be the one to tell them. It was my idea." He cleared his throat and was about to speak when Hermione nudged him.

"It was _our_ idea. I'm just as responsible as you are."

"You're not going to announce a wedding right after a funeral, are you?" Fred joked, seeing the banter between the two of them. Everyone gaped at him, not expecting a joke so soon after the burial. Thankfully, his joke managed to ease some of the tension off Harry.

"What? No. Look, what we're trying to say is that we were the ones who hired Bill for that job."

"I knew it!" Ron shouted. Ginny looked distraught, glancing between her brother and Harry. The rest of the family was surprised that Ron was the first to know anything. "What did you hire him for? And why Bill?"

"We... well, Harry discovered that where Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort were hiding. We decided to hire a team of cursebreakers and hitwizards to capture them..."

"You-Know-Who? How's that possible? He's dead... you killed him!" Percy exclaimed.

Ron and Ginny's eyes widened, as they clearly had more personal experience with the dark lord. Harry just said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Ron, but there wasn't much you could do. There wasn't much for me or Hermione to do for that matter, we just mostly watched." That was a lie, but there was no need to make his friend feel more inadequate.

"Why didn't you alert the aurors? Or Dumbledore?" Arthur asked.

"We didn't know how long he'd be there," Hermione explained. "We only knew where he was for a short time, and we couldn't trust the Aurors to send out a full squad out without a long investigation period. This was the fastest way to try to overwhelm him."

"As for Dumbledore, there are other reasons for not alerting him, but that's not important right now," Harry made the excuse. At least they achieved more this time than what Dumbledore had, whatever the old man did.

"Did _he_ know he would be fighting You-Know-Who?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, I explained that to him before the contract was signed. He's still pretty weak." Charlie's questioning eyes turned into a more pensive look.

"Did you know that Bill was going to settle down in Britain again? He was just hired by Gringotts of London. He would have had a safe job..." The bitterness in Molly's voice was clear to Harry.

"I... I didn't know. I'm sorry..."

"You offered him a lot of money... a normal cursebreaking job would have only earned him about thirty Galleons for a week's work." Harry already knew that, but given the much more dangerous nature of the job, and the fact it was Voldemort, he was willing to give a lot of money as a "hazard bonus." He stayed silent at Molly's statement, not knowing how to reply, until she continued. "You know how tempting money was for him? Not for himself... he'd always send back a chunk of his earnings after every job to help pay for Ron and Ginny's schooling."

Harry had only wanted to make sure they were well-compensated for his efforts, but he never realized that paying them so well had effectively _lured_ Bill into a dangerous job. Molly's face was flush, and her cheeks were wet with the tears running down her face. Arthur quietly said to them, "Thanks for telling us, but I think we need some time to mull this over." He escorted the two to the door.

As they walked up the path to the main road, Charlie caught up to them. "Harry, Hermione, I just wanted to tell you... Most of the family isn't very happy with you right now. That means don't try to talk to my mum for a while. Watch out for pranks from the twins. Ron and Ginny are a little conflicted but I can talk to them. I just want to tell you... since I've got a relatively dangerous job like Bill did... well, don't blame yourself. Bill knew what he was doing. You told him what he was up against, and he calculated the risks. I've no grudge against you." He held out his hand and shook theirs.

"Thanks, Charlie," Harry said, calling on the Knight Bus to take them home. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, at least.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- While I don't like Ron in canon, especially in 4th year, I'd hope that he's actually capable of maturing if he's forced to reevaluate his priorities. If Harry had warned Ron that letting his emotions fly loose would come with some consequences, maybe the Yule Ball incident wouldn't have happened? In any case, throughout the series Harry offers no incentive for his friend control his emotions- and the result is, well, Ron in canon.


	45. Another Summer's End

**Author's Notes: **I don't own Harry Potter but I do get to keep the plot for myself!

- I also watched A Very Potter Sequel. Also hilarious.

- Here's a completely random thought: why don't wizards cook food via transfiguration? I'm guessing the reason food can't be conjured/transfigured is because it will always revert back eventually, and food reverting back to rocks or whatever inside the body would be deadly. But why not just transfigure food into better-tasting food? Hm...

* * *

**Chapter 45: Another Summer's End**

After having paid his respects to Bill, Harry was tempted to return and prevent the whole accident from happening, but he was held back by two things. First was Hermione's analytical mind. She reminded him that neither of them really knew _what_ to change once they returned. Should they have hired a different set of cursebreakers, or forego the attack completely? Would the results be the same, only with a different person dying in Bill's place? Quite frankly, they had no idea if their attack had done anything to truly affect Voldemort's return. With nothing else to compare it to, Hermione wanted to stay till the end of fourth year, at least, to make sure their strike against Voldemort had, in fact, been the right choice. A little further education and they might even be able to join the fight more effectively themselves.

The second reason was more personal. Peter Pettigrew had been captured and turned in by the hitwizards. Sirius' trial was coming up, and Harry knew he'd never seen Sirius free before- not a memory he'd lost, but something he'd never experienced before. He felt guilty that he was gaining a godfather at the price of Ron's brother, but he didn't want to let this opportunity die. He wanted at least one summer with the man, free to walk the streets, go broom shopping, or watch a Quidditch game. This summer was nearly over, but that would mean waiting until at least the Christmas holidays to have any time with Sirius. He couldn't wait to see justice finally served for his godfather.

Within days, he was punching the number 62442 inside a telephone booth in London. After receiving a badge that read, "Harry Potter, Witness," he descended down into the ministry with Hermione and her parents. Oddly enough, Hermione wasn't asked by the prosecutors to be a witness as well, despite her being right by Harry's side during last year's events.

As they got off the elevator on the ninth floor, they passed by the Department of Mysteries. The Unspeakables had received the goblet a few days earlier. Hopefully, having an actual horcrux would force them to acknowledge the fact that Voldemort was still around. Harry waved to the Grangers as they split up. Hermione and her parents made their way to the observation gallery, while he descended the stairs to the courtroom. Just as he placed his hands on the large wooden doors, a familiar voice spoke up beside him. "Harry, my boy, you seem to have grown quite a bit this summer. Do I have you to thank for this unexpected capture and trial of Peter Pettigrew?"

Harry turned to see Dumbledore smiling jovially. He immediately brought his occlumency to full strength, not wanting the old man to find out what Harry already knew about him. "Of course. I'd do anything within my power to see Sirius freed and justice finally served, Chief Warlock," he admitted.

It was enough for Dumbledore realized that Harry had changed, and not just physically. He was acting defensively- something the he'd never been around him ever since they met. The boy had never questioned his judgement before, never acted so rashly without seeking his advice. To investigate where Pettigrew was hiding and send hitwizards to catch him? That was ambitious. And the boy was seeking power of his own- Dumbledore wasn't sure what potions or rituals contributed to his taller, more muscular body, but if this continued, he would head down the path of Slytherin ideals. He needed to steer Harry back towards Gryffindor ideals- courage, chivalry, and the lesser known ideal- dying for a cause. "That sounds like a very Slytherin thing to do, Harry. Do you not care for the loss of Bill Weasley? A Gryffindor would have fought his own fights instead of watching from the sidelines," Dumbledore told him.

_He just had to bring that up, didn't he? It's not as if I wanted Bill dead_, Harry thought angrily. "I never intended anything to happen to Bill, but I'll always do what I think is right, Chief Warlock." He flung open the door and walked into the courtroom, not wanting to stretch out this personal conversation much longer. He knew it was inevitable that he would see Dumbledore today, but had hoped the old man wouldn't see him until the trial began.

_Again with the formal title,_ Dumbledore thought. _Why is he pushing away from me? I must win his heart back, or else he will never accept his role once Voldemort returns to power._

"This 92nd session of the Wizengamot of the year 1994 is called to order," declared Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. To his right sat an ugly, squat, pink-robed woman who resembled a toad and was trying very desperately not to look like one via excessive use of makeup- Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. To his left was Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Dumbledore had taken a position in front of the seated Wizengamot members. "We will begin with the trial of... wait, am I reading this correctly?" Fudge leaned over to Umbridge, pointing at the parchment in his hands. She nodded, giving curious look towards Bones. "...the trial of Peter Pettigrew, who is charged with one count of feigning death, one count of framing a wizard for murder, aiding and abetting a Dark Lord, creation of false life, breeding a forbidden beast, failure to register an animagus form, eight counts of illegal warding and warding another's property, fourteen counts of tax evasion, and squatting. Amelia, what in Merlin's name do you mean by this?"

Harry was hoping for more, including the murder of the twelve muggles that were also blamed on Sirius, but Amelia Bones was smart enough to only charge Peter with things they had concrete, and recent, evidence to support. Hopefully they could charge him for more once Sirius was absolved of his crimes and he could safely return to Britain to testify. The old, commanding woman on his left said, "Well, perhaps this will clear things up. Bailiff!"

Two guards marched in with the pudgy man in shackles and strapped him into a chair at the center of the courtroom. He was looking very much like how he was in the Shrieking Shack- scared out of his wits and looking for a way out. The minister, along with several dozen people in the Wizengamot and the galleries above, balked at the sight. Dumbledore merely smiled approvingly. Harry still didn't know what was going on in that man's mind, but decided to play along.

"A few talented hitwizards dropped him off last week. I believe the charges of faking his own death should be quite clear, since he's breathing before us. Questioning the man has been quite enlightening... I'd like to call Mr. Potter to the witness stand," Madam Bones didn't want to waste any time. Neither did Harry, who strode up to the witness box, eyeing Pettigrew maliciously the entire way across the room. "Mr. Potter, would you like to tell us about the first time you first saw this man?"

"You mean in his human form or animagus form?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Either."

"Well, it would have been on the first of September, back in first year. My very first trip on the Hogwarts Express, Ron showed me his pet rat," Harry said.

"And you're sure this rat was the same as the animagus form of Peter Pettigrew?"

"Well, yeah, he slept with us for three years," Harry said, only just realizing just how much Pettigrew had violated his privacy. "Grey, losing his hair, lost one toe on his front left paw..."

"At this point we would like to point out that Mr. Pettigrew is missing a section of his little finger on his left hand," Amelia pointed out, indicating to the guards to force Pettigrew's hand up in the air for everyone to see. "The missing section matches perfectly with the finger found thirteen years ago on the day of his supposed death. Thank you, Mr. Potter, that's all."

_What? That's all I was called here for?_Harry thought. He wanted to explain Sirius' side of the story, how Pettigrew was his parents' secret-keeper, and everything else to condemn him. "Wait! I can tell you a lot more! He's the one who betrayed my parents!"

"Contentious information, Mr. Potter. Please step down and allow the next witness into the witness box," Madam Bones declared. Dumbledore nodded to him as if he knew exactly what was going on, as if that would reassure Harry. Defeated, he stepped down.

The next witness, to his surprise, was Percy Weasley, who was called in from his desk job upstairs. Evidently, he didn't want to waste a single minute of his work with this case. He gave further testimony of how Peter Pettigrew had lived with the family ever since the winter of 1981- a short time after the defeat of Voldemort. Percy was obviously avoiding Harry's eyes the entire time, leaving immediately after his testimony was given.

By then, most of the members of the Wizengamot were already eyeing Peter disgustedly. The idea of a man sneaking into the home and living years as an animal was more disgusting to them than, well, living as a muggle. Peter pleaded in his defense, "I... I was afraid! I was a friend of the Potters! The Dark Lord's followers would have hunted me down like they hunted the Longbottoms!"

"_Hem Hem. _That's no reason for you to stay in hiding for ten extra years and continue avoid paying your taxes," Umbridge said.

"Yes, we caught all the Death Eaters and sent them to Azkaban within a year of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's defeat!" Fudge added. Harry had to hide his sarcastic snort while glancing at Lucius Malfoy sitting in his seat at the Wizengamot.

"Nearly all," Amelia Bones corrected, again gesturing to the guards. They forcibly lifted his left arm, pulling down his sleeve. The Dark Mark was faint, but visible. A few people in the Wizengamot also unconsciously shifted their arms when it was put on display. "I believe he was in hiding from the law, not from any rogue Death Eaters. This next set of evidence will show that Peter Pettigrew conspired to raise a new Dark Lord," she said to the gasps of everyone in the room.

"No! That's preposterous! Are Mr. Potter here already defeated Voldemort!" Fudge immediately panicked, until Umbridge pulled him aside and whispered something into his ear. "Oh, right... yes, do proceed."

Three masked men walked in, their masks only covering their eyes like comic-book characters. Their robes hooded robes covered the rest of their heads but also had a clear Ministry of Magic logo across the back. Harry had never seen these men before, but he guessed (correctly) that they were Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries. The each of them carried a box of a different size, setting it down in the center of the courtroom. He opened it, revealing the mangled husk of Voldemort's body. "This is one of the darkest forms of homunculi, one which requires the death of a pregnant woman and the seizure of her unborn child. It was found in the care of Mr. Pettigrew," he said.

The second Unspeakable set down the largest box, and revealed the corpse of Nagini. "This is the corpse of a basilisk, also in the care of Mr. Pettigrew, which was slain at the same time as the homunculus. Its venom can be modified into a blood replacement to support the body of such unnatural life."

The third one set down the third box, which was only the size of a textbook. "We have consulted with Mr. Ollivander, who recognizes this wand as the one originally sold to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was never found after his initial defeat, but was again found in the same building in which Pettigrew was originally found."

"With those three pieces of evidence, we believe it is clear that Pettigrew was attempting to create a puppet of the former Dark Lord, perhaps to strike fear and destabilize the magical world." Few people wanted to disagree with that conclusion. There wasn't really any need to mention that Voldemort's soul was actually inside the puppet to make things worse. Harry started to understand why his testimony was worth so little, compared to the investigation of the Unspeakables. He didn't need to take credit for the attack, which would focus more suspicions on him anyways.

Further testimonies from the cursebreakers that Harry had hired were added, and Pettigrew was quickly found guilty with nobody coming to his defense. Congratulations were being handed back and forth between Fudge and Umbridge, to the chagrin of Madam Bones. At this point, Dumbledore winked at Harry and called for order. "I believe that the actions of Mr. Pettigrew in recent days have called into question his Order of Merlin and his actions in the last war," Dumbledore said.

"Yes, yes, of course. We will revoke his Order of Merlin," Fudge said absently.

"And Sirius Black?" Harry asked aloud.

"Don't worry, dear boy, we will catch him soon. You've nothing to worry about," Fudge continued. Harry shook his head in disbelief at the man's idiocy.

"I mean when are you going to clear his name since Peter Pettigrew framed him?" Harry shouted, quickly losing his patience.

"But he led your parents to their death, boy!"

"That was Pettigrew, too. I told you ages- I mean, two months ago." Harry said, looking back and forth between the two pudgy men. Harry realized it would take a boulder to smash through Fudge's thick skull to admit he ever made any mistakes.

"Since we've already convicted Pettigrew of multiple crimes, could I get authorization for some Veritaserum for further questioning?" Madam Bones asked. Harry showed his surprise at the fact that the woman had managed to gather all the evidence for trial without using Veritaserum before. Fudge and Umbridge nodded in approval, and another ministry worker entered the room with a vial of the clear truth drug. Dripping three drops on to his tongue, the fear on his face faded as the potion began to take effect. Madam Bones asked, "Mr, Pettigrew, did you frame Sirius Black for your own death?"

"Yes," he answered without emotion.

"Did you also frame him for the murder of twelve muggles?"

"Yes."

"Did you also frame Sirius Black for being the Potters' secret keeper?"

"Yes."

"Who was actually their secret keeper?"

"Me." Shocked gasps rang out across the room.

"Did Sirius Black have any reason to join the Dark Lord and become a Death Eater?"

"No. He had already abandoned his family at a young age and was loyal to the Potters, who gave him a home."

"Did you have any reason to join the Dark Lord and become a Death Eater?"

"James Potter always had everything. Good looks, talent, money, popularity. He shared a little with me but always kept the good things for himself. I was one of his first friends at Hogwarts but he quickly passed me up for others like Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. I would never be able to surpass him unless the world was turned upside-down." _So, in the end it was jealousy that turned him against my father,_ Harry realized. There was always the chance he had done it merely out of fear- something Harry _could _have forgiven, since being face-to-face with Voldemort was a rather life-changing experience. Now it was clear that Peter had gone to him willingly- there would be no forgiveness for him from Harry.

"With the Dark Lord vanquished, why did you attempt to recreate a puppet of him?"

"I didn't try to make a puppet. I was trying to revive him. I would have been his most loyal servant and his second in command." As the courtroom exploded in chaos at that statement, Harry chuckled in amusement. Even when he _did_ successfully bring Voldemort back to life last time, he was quickly pushed down to the lowest ranks. Secondly, the same Wizengamot members who had instinctively touched their Dark Marks earlier were all staring at the man in horror. Evidently they were all quite comfortable where they stood after Voldemort's fall, and his return would risk their cushy lives.

"I believe this calls for a new trial for Sirius Black," Amelia Bones said. "New orders for the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement will direct all aurors that Mr. Black is to be escorted without harm to the DMLE for questioning. All dementors are to stop hunting Mr. Black. We will have a new trial for him once we find out where he is."

The partial victory for Sirius was enough to lift Harry's spirits. Maybe he'd write Sirius a letter telling him to come back to Britain. He slipped out of the courtroom before Dumbledore could, running upstairs to meet with Hermione and her parents. "Harry! You won! Sirius is going to be free after this!" Hermione squealed when she saw Harry.

"I know! I'm going to write him as soon as we get back home!" Harry was overjoyed at the prospect of being able to live with Sirius, as the man had offered but was unable to deliver. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, but I think I'll finally have someone I can live with next summer!"

Emma gave him a warm smile. "I never knew your life was so hectic, Harry. If only we knew about the whole situation with your parents... and your godfather... we wouldn't have been so hard on you. Right, Dan?"

"Huh?" Her husband jerked to attention from his quiet musing. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. I just can't get over how incompetent their Prime Minster is," he said.

"Minister of Magic, dad," Hermione corrected.

"And I could have sworn that the Speaker for the House looked exactly like your headmaster at school..."

"That's Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," she corrected again. "But he _is_ the same person."

"How does a man do both those jobs at the same time? Each one is full-time work!"

"Not very well," Harry muttered his answer under his breath. Hermione was the only one who heard him.

* * *

The news of the trial hit the front pages of the _Daily Prophet_ the next day, but it wasn't what Harry had expected.

_**Disaster Dodged! Dark Wizard Captured!**_

_By Andrea Anderson_

_No matter what dark activity is brewing, the Ministry will quash the threat before its citizens even know it existed. That was the message being sent by Minister Fudge this morning as a Dark Wizard was sent to Azkaban for multiple, unspecified crimes. His name was not released, nor was his full list of crimes, but it was known that he was a sympathizer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, attempting to perform "magic of the darkest nature," and left plenty for the Department of Mysteries to investigate. The capture resulted in no harm to any Ministry personnel._

_Since the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, there has been a steady decline in dark activity throughout the country. The Sirius Black scare last year has brought Minister Fudge's judgement into question, when he decided to bring in dozens of Dementors to Hogwarts. Many have argued that they caused more harm than good on the children, as Sirius Black still managed to make his way onto the grounds and all the way into the boys' dormitories. The official statement from his office was that the damage could have been worse without the aid of the Dementors._

_This recent capture and sentencing of the Dark Wizard has bolstered confidence in the Minister, who is expected to retain his position and maintain his platform of economic stability, security, and continuation wizarding tradition._

"What about Bill? What about Sirius?" Harry threw the paper down angrily.

"The Ministry doesn't like admitting its mistakes," Hermione said, reading the paper more carefully. "Well, here's a small blurb about Bill... and it doesn't relate his death to anything about capturing Pettigrew." It was nothing more than a two-sentence statement hidden at the bottom corner of the paper. They didn't expect to find anything about Sirius without an accompanying article declaring Pettigrew's guilt. It would probably be a good idea to warn Sirius that although the aurors were no longer looking to arrest him, the general public would still believe he was a criminal. Harry got to writing the letter immediately while Hermione continued reading the paper.

A few more pages into the paper, she came upon another surprise and brought it to Harry's attention.

_**Harry Potter Makes His Move!**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Wizards and Witches, I bring to you today news you've been waiting for! After the defeat of You-Know-Who, many have wondered what Harry Potter was up to. Surely, such a powerful child who could defeat the most terrible dark wizard of our times would be destined for great things. Unfortunately, while there were many stories of Harry Potter, real news of the boy was extremely limited. Few people saw him at all until he finally returned from wherever he was hidden at the age of eleven to attend Hogwarts. Many people have wondered what special training or education he was receiving during those secretive years._

_His first three years of Hogwarts was disappointing for us, to say the least. His professors rarely spoke of him without mentioning that he was "just like any other student," but I, and my readers, knew better. We have just discovered that his skills were merely hidden, and he has finally decided to show his cards. He has decided that the standard Hogwarts curriculum was holding him back and decided to take his OWLs two years early!_

_His marks were just released today, and it's a strong showing for the Boy-Who-Lived. He gained OWLs in every subject he attempted, including three Outstandings in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Transfiguration. I believe it's safe to say that Harry Potter will be a very powerful wizard- but the question is, what is he planning?_

"Neat, I got three O's?" Harry wondered aloud.

"You should be more concerned that that she could find your marks and post them to the public!"

"It's Rita Skeeter, what can I say? She probably turned into a bug again and wandered into the Ministry. Actually, she probably blackmailed someone at the Ministry for it. At least she's not calling me evil this time," Harry said.

"Not _yet_. You know she's just wants to sell her article, and there's no news like bad news."

"Well, you know it was inevitable for everyone to find out when we got to Hogwarts. They just found out a week or two earlier," Harry said. "When _are_ we supposed to receive our marks, by the way?"

As if on cue, two owls swooped down through the window, dropping off envelopes with the official MoM Wizarding Examinations Authority seal. Hermione tore hers open in the way she should have used on her Christmas presents. Harry wasn't surprised to see a straight set of eight O's down her sheet of paper. Harry opened his own, already knowing what to expect for half his results. As Skeeter had announced, he received O's on the three wandwork courses. In Potions, he had an EE, much of which came from his extra practice for the Trial of Earth and Professor Fleming's teaching. He also scraped by with A's on both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes- not bad for someone who only took the fourth year class (as far as he remembered, at least).

"Congratulations, Hermione! Eight O's! That's amazing!" Hermione was squealing in glee at her marks when she looked over at Harry's.

"Harry! You got all your OWLs! That's fantastic! Which... um...NEWT courses are you going to be taking?" She asked with some hesitance, to Harry's surprise.

"Hermione? What are you so worried about? I'll be taking all the ones that I can, of course," Harry said. "Charms, Transfig, DADA, Potions, Runes and Arithmancy." Hermione squealed and hugged him when he mentioned the last two.

"You're going to be in all those classes with me, then! Thank you, Harry!"

"Why on Earth wouldn't I have?"

"I just... I thought you might have dropped the harder courses and take some of the easier ones instead. I'm glad you didn't."

"Your runes have saved my life already; I think I'd like to learn as much about it as I can," Harry smiled. "Come on, you should tell your parents all about it. I'm sure they'll be proud of you," he said.

They did just that when her parents got home, and they reacted very well to the news. Hermione had only skipped one year in primary school before she received her Hogwarts invitation. Skipping two years at once was more impressive than anything she'd achieved before, and was something her parents could appreciate. Mastering the summoning charm wasn't any more impressive to them than mastering the levitation charm since all magic seemed equally impossible for them, not to mention the fact that Hermione wasn't able to demonstrate the spells for them anyway. The fact that Harry was able to take his classes with her reassured them that she would still have a friend in her new classes, unlike what had happened years earlier. Finally seeing some tangible benefits from her relationship with Harry, Dan finally accepted that Harry was, in fact, a good thing for his daughter.

* * *

On the day that they decided to go to Diagon Alley to buy their textbooks and other school supplies, they noticed that Tom's bar had far more people and the shops themselves had far fewer. Only after they finished their shopping that they stopped for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron and realized what they'd forgotten. Everyone was listening to the Quidditch semifinals on the Wizarding Wireless. Arthur Weasley had sold the World Cup tickets this year to help pay for the cost of Bill's funeral. Without their invitation, the two of them wondered how they could get to the campgrounds to ambush the Death Eater rioters.

If things still happened the same way as last time, they only had until the next night to set up their traps. With the assault on Riddle Manor in mind, they didn't want to engage a group of hostile rioters when they would be greatly outnumbered. Hopefully, a warning letter to the DMLE and a few traps to stun the rioters when they showed up would help catch several of them.

They had to be careful not to catch some innocent civilians within their traps. As they had planned before, they would only have some tripping, stunning, and confusion wards, as well as some anti-apparition wards. They planned on setting up the wards to activate during the game, so they'd catch the Death Eaters as they arrived in the forest by the campgrounds while everyone else was watching the game.

Unfortunately, at the last moment, they ran into a problem- parental approval. While they were perfectly happy to buy Hermione a gift for her academic achievement, they weren't ready to let her go out at night with Harry. A 14-year-old girl was far too young to be going out at late night without an adult escort, in their opinion. There was no way Hermione would be bringing her parents to a potential Death Eater rally. Without being able to oversee the attack themselves, they had to settle for an "afternoon date" and return before sunset. That allowed them to set up their time-delay wards in the afternoon, hoping the aurors would be able to clean up the rest of the rioters.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the two time-travelling teens, this time the terrorist responsible for the riot was far too busy with other matters to recruit hoodlums to the World Cup. Barty Crouch Jr. was fixing up the larynx of the golem body because he'd been having a hard time understanding his master via eye movements.

"Hello, m'lord. Can you talk now?"

The pale head's mouth moved slowly and unnaturally, lacking the strength to speak above a whisper as the body was powered only by a weak hag's heart. "When... will... you... finish... this... body?"

"Sorry, m'lord, but a lot of parts were smashed up in that last attack. At least I managed to save the head, yeah? No? Would you prefer somethin' like the homunculus that Wormtail fellow got for you in the meantime?"

"How... long... until... magic?"

"Well, not until I can get more bowtruckle silk... I barely had enough to keep your head alive. I might need to get you a new right arm; that one looks salvageable but I don't think it would hold up to your full power."

"Need... homun...culus."

"We need some basilisk venom for that to hold up, though, m'lord. Breeding a new one would mean we'd need some safe haven for a month. And a toad. And a horcrux would smooth out the process, too."

"Malfoy." Voldemort, having lost his Hufflepuff horcrux, decided to head immediately for his next most accessible horcrux, which should be safe at Malfoy Manor. It was time to test Lucius's loyalty.

* * *

_**Anonymous Auror Hoax Leaves Campers Confused**_

_By Gwendolyn Farewither_

_While nearly a hundred thousand wizards and witches were enjoying an exciting final match at the Quidditch World Cup Tournament, at least one was setting up a prank for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

"_We received a letter informing us there was a going to be several people inciting a riot at the end of the event," Madam Bones said in a statement. "As this was an international event Britain has not hosted for three decades, we sent two full squads of Aurors to ensure the stadium and campsites would be secure. Our aurors fell into a trap, although there were no casualties or severe injuries."_

_The trap was laid just outside the camping grounds, rebounding several aurors who apparated to the scene, confounding others, and causing general mayhem. Thankfully, they were able to clear the traps quite quickly, before the game ended and few magical citizens were affected. The perpetrators left very few clues, unfortunately._

"_Given the number of people who were camping for days in the area, it is extremely hard to pin down who could have done this. The runes were set for a time-delay, which makes it even harder to identify when they were planted. The fact that they were made with standard school-grade sandstones and the lack of any jinxes that could cause permanent damage lead us to believe that it was a hoax perpetrated by some rowdy schoolchildren." It is known that many students from Durmstrang, Salem Witches' Academy, Beauxbatons, and Chernomor were visiting, although the possibility that a British student had a hand in the prank remains open._

Harry looked at Hermione, who was already panicking. Obviously, their plan to ambush the Death Eaters had backfired. They were glad the aurors couldn't trace it back to them, but they had to lay low and not rouse any more suspicion. If her parents read the paper, they could easily match the dates with their afternoon trip- and that wouldn't be good. They threw the paper into the fireplace, missing an interesting article at the back.

_**Krum Catches a World Cup Win for Bulgaria**_

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I'm also working on a short (possibly one-shot) fic about Dumbledore in canon. I'm trying to figure out why a man would make all his decisions without making him explicitly evil, incompetent, senile, or godlike. I think I've more or less figured it out, except I still can't figure out why he'd approve a time-turner in book 3 without resorting to "senile" or "godlike." *sigh* Trying to apply logic to the magical world seems like a futile exercise.

- I've also been giving some thought about phoenix morality. They are obviously "light" creatures, but do they work for individual good or the greater good? People already hate on Dumbledore's "greater good" but this thing _is _nearly immortal and a completely different species. Would it aid in the downfall of human civilization if it benefitted life on earth as a whole? Just some food for thought.


	46. Suspiciously Smart

**Author's Notes:** Copyright is for moneymaking.

- Some people have been mentioning Barty's escape, which is different in this AU for the same reason a lot of other little things are different: I find that it makes more sense and it's also a bit more exciting. In canon, Barty escapes during the World Cup and within days, he's found Voldemort, plotted Harry's kidnapping, brewed polyjuice, and has a successful plan to attack Moody's well-defended home and take his place before school starts. Yeah... here, he's escaped earlier and has been working with Voldemort all summer- possibly longer.

* * *

**Chapter 46: Suspiciously Smart**

Throughout the train ride to Hogwarts, Harry was being repeatedly mobbed by both boys and girls- with strong showings from both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Most of them began the same way- "Harry, I read in the paper that you've already taken your OWLs?" and was quickly followed up with "Wow, Harry, what did you eat this summer?"

The fifth and sixth year Ravenclaws were the first to find them. They wanted exam preparation advice from a real-life boy genius. Harry, who had really learned all his study habits from Hermione, deflected their questions to her. They were quite surprised that she had managed the same feat with even better marks than Harry, and yet received no attention from the _Daily Prophet_. Hermione seemed to be quite thankful for Harry for allowing her to gain some adulation and respect from the older students, many of whom she had a casual acquaintance from the library. One of the last few Ravenclaws to visit were Cho Chang and her friend Marietta- who, despite being in the house of the studious, weren't above some gossip as well. They left the cabin all a-twitter over Harry's new look and the way he sat with Hermione.

Within minutes of their departure, other students who weren't interested in OWLs but had some fascination with the Boy-Who-Lived began to peek their heads in. Colin Creevy was the first, snapping a picture before Harry had a chance to protest. The news spread to his dormmates Dean, Seamus, and Neville, who were taken completely aback at Harry's lack of glasses and the fact that he was no longer the shortest. Hermione, having been with Harry all summer long during his regular potions regimen, got used to his gradual gain in height and knew that his improved vision was the least of the changes. The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team dropped by as the news continued to spread, surprised to hear that Harry had performed so well for years _without_ perfect vision all along. His slight size increase was actually a disappointment to Angelina, but Harry assured her it wouldn't be a problem this year- not just because of the Tournament, but because he was certain his flying skills had actually improved with the help of his animagus form.

About halfway through the train ride, the rumours had morphed from "Harry has taken his OWLs and isn't wearing glasses any more" to "Harry is smart, sexy, and extremely available." Harry never knew how bad the attention of being Boy-Who-Lived could get until now. There were over a dozen girls in the school who professed their desire to be his girlfriend, several of which he'd never spoken a word to in all his time at Hogwarts. Only three of them decided to turn around when they saw the rumours were greatly exaggerated. Despite having his arm draped around Hermione and staunch refusals, Harry was only able to turn away four more. It got to be so bad that he resorted to locking and silencing the door to the cabin.

Oddly enough, it was the people who didn't visit his room that had Harry worried the most. Ginny, one of the biggest Harry Potter fans Harry had ever met, didn't drop by, and neither did Ron, their former best friend. Both those Weasleys had good reason not to want to talk to him, so Harry didn't bother seeking them out if they wanted to be left alone. The one other visitor they'd expected, but didn't see, was Draco. They knew the boy had plenty to brag about- he would probably go on another tirade about Durmstrang and the Tournament, probably tease Harry about being either a know-it-all or a cheat for attaining his OWLs. Hopefully he wasn't teasing Ron about Bill- although Draco certainly was callous enough to do it, he probably hadn't noticed the article in the paper.

When they were nearing Hogwarts, they finally unlocked the door to find Luna standing outside with a curious look on her face. "I heard rumours that you were here, Harry."

"Uh... yeah, sorry about locking the door, Luna. The rumours were a getting a little out of hand," Harry sighed out, knowing he'd be victim to even more of it once he stepped into the castle.

"Don't worry, Harry, I won't doubt rumours that easily," Luna replied.

"Uh, sorry Luna, I was hoping you _would_ forget about the rumours you've heard about me so far... I mean, um... you're a nice girl and all, but I'm very happy with Hermione..."

"Really? But wouldn't it be impolite to forget you existed while I was still talking to you?"

"I'd like to consider my own existence a fact and not a rumour," Harry replied with some amusement.

"Well, people tell me that I'm talking to imaginary creatures all the time but they always assure me they're real too," Luna said. "I was so glad that other people told me you were real, too, but quite frankly the creatures have had a far better track record than the people."

Hermione pulled her inside and closed the door, casting a silencing charm on it as well. "Alright, Luna... we have about ten minutes before we pull into Hogsmeade station. I think we really, really need to know what is going on with those... err... imaginary creatures of yours." Harry had nearly given up on trying to understand Luna long ago, but Hermione was determined to figure her out.

"They assure me they're real," Luna said.

"Yes... well, let's start with the blibbering humdingers," Hermione said.

"Wouldn't you like to know about the crumple-horned snorkacks? I spent all summer searching for them in Norway with my father," Luna asked cheerfully.

"No, blibbering humdingers. I'm _really_ interested in what they tell you," she said.

"They tell me how to find interesting things," she answered. "Last June they told me to follow the wrackspurts and I found you two under an invisibility cloak. And then they told me to go search for crumple-horned snorkacks in the home of plunderers so my father and I went to Norway. Next time we're going try looking in the Department of Magical Finance and Taxation."

"Right... right... okay." Hermione was slowly trying to find the right frame of mind to understand Luna properly. "And were they also the ones who told you that Harry didn't exist?"

"No, they just told me that they found something more interesting about you last month."

"And how does that mean I stopped existing?" Harry asked, somewhat worried.

"Oh, they chatter on about everything! The breezes, the trees, my textbooks, Hagrid, eyelashes, sunlight, nargles, shoes, particle accelerators, spider webs, vampires... the only thing they lost interest in are imaginary things. Like history," she answered.

Hermione had to bite her lip to stop herself from launching a tirade about the importance of history and how very real it was. Harry took over the questioning, very eager to ask, "Did they say what exactly was so very interesting about last month?"

"Nope." Luna only smiled blankly after her flat refutation, which really irritated Harry despite seeing it happen often. "Oh, I forgot to tell you in June... don't go to the house on the hill. You haven't done it already, have you?"

"Wait... you've said something about this before, haven't you?" Harry recalled a cryptic message from her just before the Trial of Earth last time around.

"Oh, I did tell you then? I don't remember passing on the message, but memories are overrated anyways," Luna said. "They can be changed ever so easily."

"No... yes... never mind. Hermione?" Harry turned to the brainy witch for better insight. "Do you think she's talking about Riddle Manor?"

"I'm pretty sure she is," Hermione answered.

"So I guess we shouldn't assault it next time? I thought we did pretty well; we just need to make sure Bill doesn't die and catch Crouch Jr."

"I think there's one more question we need to ask," she said. Turning to Luna, she asked, "Luna, do the blibbering humdingers want Harry to succeed?"

"Success is relative, isn't it? It's mostly just a matter of opinion," Luna said. "The blibbering humdingers don't talk about feelings much, because they don't exist, either."

"Feelings are real, Luna," Harry muttered, instinctively hugging Hermione a little more tightly.

"I think the humdingers use a more empirical definition of _real_, Harry," Hermione. "Let's try this, then... what do they say about Voldemort?"

"They find him quite interesting," she said. "Very few things happen to have a gap in their existence."

"And my last question... what exactly do you do to hear them?"

Luna didn't answer, but instead just drifted off into the dreamy stare she often had, only breaking it off when Harry tapped her shoulder. "Like that," she said in an obliviously unhelpful manner.

"Can you tell us what they're saying?" Harry was intrigued with this possible new source of information.

"They were watching over the last moments of six hundred fat birds," she answered unhelpfully.

"Uh, thanks, Luna. I think it's time to head into the school; we're pulling into the station now." When Luna left for her own cabin, Hermione turned to Harry and said, "Well, I still think assaulting the manor was a good idea. Those 'messages' from the humdingers that Luna's getting might not help us at all, if they're the kind of creatures that consider Voldemort 'interesting.'"

"Right. I'd rather concentrate on making the raid go better before I give up on it entirely," Harry said while he pulled his trunk down from the shelf. "Do you really think they're not imaginary?"

"Either that or Luna's some kind of seer," Hermione answered. "But even seers aren't quite as... certain as she seems to be acting. She's… different."

* * *

The trip up to the castle allowed no privacy for the two of them as more Ravenclaws kept asking questions even as they climbed into the carriages. They ended up riding with two sixth-year Ravenclaws- Lena and Gerald Rennett, fraternal twins in the same house. Seeing as they were future classmates in some classes, the two of them suffered the unending curiosity of the twins quietly. Harry was distracted by looking for the Weasleys, and noticed the four of them all rode one carriage together- as far as he could tell, they'd never done that before.

Only when they actually went to sit down at the Gryffindor table did they mange a strained hello to them. To Harry's relief, they weren't hostile or angry outright, much like they had been on the night of the funeral. They weren't feeling very talkative, at least to Harry and Hermione, and sat a few seats away from them. Dumbledore made his customary speeches, welcoming the new students to Hogwarts and beginning the Sorting quickly. For the most part, it happened exactly the same way as it did last time- there were the groans as Quidditch was cancelled, whispers when the Triwizard Tournament was announced, and the sudden hush when Moody entered the room.

Instantly, Harry could see Moody's eye swivel towards him. While he walked up to the staff table and took his seat, Harry was certain the eye was trained on him, even looking through the back of Moody's head. He was being studied, scrutinized, and scanned by that eye. It was unnerving.

"He's okay, isn't he? No Imperius, right?" Harry asked Hermione, who had also noticed the attention Harry was receiving from the paranoid old man.

"You're asking me? We can't be completely sure until we try legilimency on him," she replied.

"He might attack us again if he's under imperius- I think we should have a better strategy than we did last time," Harry said.

"He'd attack us regardless," Hermione corrected. "Although I agree we should have a battle plan... last time we got lucky."

Meanwhile, at the staff table, Moody was describing his summer to Dumbledore. "It started with a letter delivered by a white owl," Moody said. "Warned me about an attack on my home after the World Cup."

"Interesting... very interesting, Alastor," Dumbledore said. "And the reason you suspect Harry Potter is that he is well-known for having a snowy owl, correct?"

"That's right. The funny thing is, there _was_ no attack. Contacted some of the old crowd to see if anybody had any old grudges to settle. Found nothing. Nobody came to my house that day. Or the days before or after, for that matter."

"Perhaps the plans fell through for whatever people were plotting?"

"Perhaps. Now I'm thinking I may have played into his plans. Maybe he was trying to keep me in my home while he was off doing something else. There's something odd about that lad, and I've just confirmed it. He's been staring at me like he wants to attack me. Like he knows me, beyond my reputation," the man growled.

"Oh, the dear boy has a penchant for getting into trouble, but perhaps he is only suspicious of you. He hasn't had a very good relationship with his past Defense professors." Dumbledore tried to reassure the old auror, mostly so the man's paranoia wouldn't go over the edge and cause him to launch a "first strike" on Harry.

"I didn't survive two wars without learning how to distinguish smart prey and disguised predators, Albus. That boy appears to be the latter," he said.

Moody's words struck a chord with Dumbledore's memory of the trial of Peter Pettigrew. Harry _had_ changed greatly in the past two months, no doubt about that. There was definitely something much more adversarial at the time, but predatorial was a much better word. The last three years the boy had been like a cornered mouse, reacting and lashing out when he was trapped, miraculously surviving every time. This could be dangerous- after all, the boy was prophesized to have the power to defeat Voldemort himself. Whether he defeated Voldemort to rid the world of evil or to replace him was uncertain again. If anyone had asked at the end of the summer, Dumbledore could have sworn Harry would never fall to the temptations of power. Then again, he had misjudged students before- when did Tom Riddle begin his study of the dark arts? He had also believed his warnings to Tom were taken seriously, but the boy had successfully plotted under his nose five decades ago. He needed to refer to his pensieve once again. Thank goodness Harry didn't have the same slyness and charisma Tom used to charm his professors.

"Don't antagonize the boy, Alastor, but I'll need your help keeping an eye on him."

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, when Professor McGonagall handed out the class schedules, she asked Harry and Hermione to come to her office. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I believe we are currently facing a rather unique situation for the two of you. We've never had students who took only a few of their OWLs early... and never two years early, as far as I can personally remember," she explained. "Now, Miss Granger, I expect that you'll be continuing with all the core courses in the sixth year curriculum? There shouldn't be any conflict with your courses." Hermione happily nodded, grateful that her education wouldn't be interrupted. "Both of you will have to take your Astronomy course, as that is a required OWL."

"Now, Mr. Potter, there could be several problems with your schedule, unfortunately. First, I expect that you're also going to take as many sixth-year courses as you've qualified for?"

"Of course!" Harry answered, giving Hermione a slightly worried look.

"Well, I have to inform you that there is one course in which you achieved your OWL, but your marks didn't meet the minimum requirements for the NEWT level." Harry's eyes widened. He'd only received Acceptables in Runes and Arithmancy- those were, by far, the hardest exams he'd taken that summer and was beyond relieved that he managed to pass. It seemed that, in the original time loops, he had concentrated his study on the design of the temporal beacon and return clusters, and he could recite those particular runes and their layout as if it were instinct. The rest of the runic vocabulary and arithmancic formulas had simply taken sheer determination (and a lot of help from Hermione). After hammering down the basics, though, he began to understand their usefulness and potential- not something he wanted to drop. The two courses also complemented each other well- arithmancy alone had very little real-world application, while making runes without arithmancy was much harder to predict and fine-tune.

"Which course was it?" Harry asked. In the end, if he couldn't take one, he'd have to depend on Hermione to just tutor him up to speed in private.

"Potions."

Harry was dumbstruck for a moment. "Wait, _what_? I got an Exceeds Expectations! You can't possibly expect a NEWT class to only accept O students..."

"Professor Snape does, and he sets the standard for the course," their head of house replied.

"Oh, that's just bol-" Hermione kicked him lightly, McGonagall caught the cuss word.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. You _will_ control your tongue while you're at Hogwarts. Now, you _do _have several options available to you. First, you can take the fifth-year Potions again and reattempt the OWL at the end of the year, but that will conflict with the sixth-year Transfiguration class," she explained.

"I'd much rather take your class than Snape's," Harry said.

"_Professor_ Snape, Mr. Potter, but allow me to say that I approve of your choice," she said. "Your other options are to take another third-year class for that period or simply leave it free. Now, before you answer, I would like to ask you if you've looked into future career choices, because the courses you take now will play into it greatly."

"Really? What about me, professor?" Hermione asked.

"Since you completed eight OWLs and you are continuing with those courses this year, there are very few occupations that you couldn't handle, unless you would like a switch into magical creatures or divination…" she explained.

"Ugh, no thanks," Hermione replied.

"I'd like to go into cursebreaking," Harry said, with recent events in mind.

"Then all your NEWT level courses will serve you well- although you still have to complete your OWLs for History of Magic and Herbology, which brings me to the second problem."

"What?"

"As much as we tried, we couldn't find a way to arrange the schedule to allow you to take all your NEWT courses along with fourth-year Herbology and History. I make a request to the Department of Mysteries for a time-turner for you like I did with Miss Granger last year, but it was denied. Last year's loan was, apparently a one-time offer."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you can either drop one or two of your NEWT courses- that is, Charms or Arithmancy, and take those courses. The other option is to simply study them on your own time, and you will have additional free periods to do so. You will not graduate from Hogwarts without your Herbology and History OWLs, however."

"Not a problem," Harry said. He was thinking more practically, after all. Herbology was somewhat practical, but the way Binns taught History… well, he would probably have an easier time staying awake by reading the textbook on a comfy couch in front of the fireplace. At four in the morning and a dreamless sleep potion. He wanted more fluency with runes and spellwork so that he might be able to take on a weakened Voldemort. Drop Charms for History? Never!

"And lastly… don't think that I am doubting your integrity, but how _did_ both of you pass the OWLs? I thought there was an error when I first received notice from the Wizarding Examinations Authority. Miss Granger, you _did_ only use the time-turner as directed last year?"

"Yes ma'am. I may have taken a few extra hours outside my classes… but not beyond the prescribed limits," she answered. "I was just interested in a little more research, that's all."

"I can understand when the brightest witch I've ever taught manages to study ahead by herself, but _you_ are a complete mystery to me, Harry. How did you manage to complete so many OWLs? Although I would never call you unintelligent, I would not have put you on the same level as Miss Granger. You even received Acceptables on two courses you didn't take last year! That's three years worth of study!"

"Uh… Hermione taught me," Harry said, thinking of the most convenient excuse. "She's a good teacher."

"When did she have time to do this? Did she take you along with her time-turner?"

_Other than the time Dumbledore told me to?_ Harry recalled. "No. I… uh… was studying all of last year and the summer with Hermione. She's a _very_ good teacher."

"Be that as it may, I _would_ like to have a demonstration of your skill myself." Professor McGonagall pointed to two fist-sized stones on her desk. "Mr. Potter, could you transfigure that stone into a live sparrow? Miss Granger, you have to transfigure the other one into a live lizard."

The two of them performed the transfigurations flawlessly, thoroughly impressing the professor. Satisfied that they would do well in her class, but still wondering how they had learned so quickly, she dismissed them from her office. After they had left, she reported to the headmaster's office. Moody and Snape were already there.

"What is your assessment of our two prodigies, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.

"Their skills at transfiguration were phenomenal. Inanimate stone transfigured into live animals, non-verbally, and on their first try. They're like completely different people! I have no doubt his skill."

"They _could_ be completely different people," Moody growled. "Even my eye can't see through polyjuice. Are you sure that's the real Potter? Didn't he disappear for hours on the last day of school and suddenly reappear in Diagon Alley?"

"I am quite certain of Harry's identity, Alastor, although I'm not quite as certain about Miss Granger's. I haven't kept as close an eye on her."

"Then she could be an impostor, or possessed. Under the influence of dark objects. Something's got to be feeding them information. An enchanted tome, perhaps?"

"I dare say that Potter must be out of his mind if he's displaying any competence. Any Potter in their right mind would only be thinking of his own amusement," Snape sneered.

"Mr. Potter is _quite_ the well-mannered young lad, if you weren't so hell-bent on goading him into becoming his father, Severus. I can certainly say he's remained the well-mannered boy- although he may have added a few words into in his vocabulary from the youngest Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger has always been an exceptionally bright witch, and it was _not _a great surprise for me to see her advance early." McGonagall was quick to defend her students, despite the doubts she still had about them.

"I'll give him a thorough check once he steps into my classroom," Moody decided. "A mock ambush would keep the entire class on its toes…"

"You'd attack your own students?" McGonagall appalled expression only received a grunt in reply.

"Can't teach Defense without forcing them to defend themselves. Potter just might have to defend himself a little harder than the rest of the class, that's all."

"Alastor, what you do in your classroom is up to you, so long as there is no permanent damage," Dumbledore said, ending the argument. "What I am more concerned about is how he managed to arrive at the Ministry to take the OWLs without any magical escort. I received no indication that he left his home at all…" Mrs. Figg hadn't seen Harry leave the Dursleys, and since she knew he was often locked inside his room for weeks at a time, his long absence this summer went unreported. Dumbledore's monitoring instruments in his office were equally unaffected.

"You've been monitoring the boy?" Moody asked, more out of curiosity than disapproval.

"Ever since the fall of Voldemort, I took it upon myself to ensure he had a safe home to return to," Dumbledore said. "I would have known immediately if he was abducted, or if he left the house for an extended period of time."

"Albus, those exams take two days to complete! Harry also told me he was being tutored by Miss Granger over the summer- they couldn't have been travelling by muggle means every day, and the Grangers don't have their fireplace attached to the Floo network. He must have stayed over for a part of the summer," McGonagall concluded.

"That is quite unlikely," Dumbledore said, looking at the instruments which were still rotating, puffing, and swinging around as usual. "I'm sure Miss Granger must have stayed with Harry," he concluded.

"So there's your breach of security. This Granger girl is possessed or otherwise compromised, and is invited right into Potter's home. We need to investigate her, immediately," Moody said.

"I can deal with Granger in my Potions class," Snape said. Being the lone Gryffindor in Potions, and vastly outnumbered by Slytherins, Hermione wouldn't have anyone to turn to when he used his legilimency on her.

"That won't be necessary. I shall invite Miss Granger for a chat in my office this evening. Now, I believe the first classes of the semester will be beginning shortly? You all have young and eager minds to fill."

* * *

"I don't trust him. He might obliviate you or something, Hermione." The two of them approached the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office.

"Ice Mice," Hermione said, causing the gargoyle to reveal the doorway. "And that's exactly the reason why I _don't_ want you to come with me, Harry. If anything happens, you can… go back and fix it. If we're together, he might get both of us at once!"

"But if I'm there, he probably wouldn't even try it in the first place," Harry said. "If you're alone, he could do whatever he wanted and cover it up afterwards!"

The argument was pulled to a halt as Dumbledore appeared at the top of the spiral staircase before they had stepped on to the escalating stairs. "Good evening, Miss Granger. I certainly don't mind having Harry here join us for the evening." As he had expected, inviting Hermione automatically meant Harry would be here as well.

After sitting down in front of the Headmaster, Harry kept both of his wands ready to release from their holsters at a moment's notice. Hermione seemed to be doing the same. Dumbledore, however, kept his wand in his robes and placed his hands on the desk. "Lemon drop?" he offered. Both of them shook their heads.

"I don't know what we're here for, headmaster," Hermione said. "Would you like to explain?"

"Of course, Miss Granger. You see, your phenomenal advancement in your education has, naturally, caught the attention of all the professors at Hogwarts. Some of them have their doubts about the validity of the OWL results, so I have decided to settle these matters once and for all, without naming any names- they will accept my judgement."

"Wait… why would they doubt Hermione's performance and not mine?" Harry asked. "She's always been smarter than me."

"The issue lies with your fame, Mr. Potter. It _is_ quite unfair to your friends, is it not? Alas, you cannot control what others think of you, but you_ can _avoid allowing your fame to leave your friends behind."

_As if I didn't already know that?_ Harry thought. _I'd always choose my friends over my fame._ He only nodded silently in response.

"Well, what would you like to know? We didn't cheat, if that's what you're asking," Hermione said.

"Firstly, may I ask when you obtained the materials for study? Neither of you are lucky enough to have older siblings pass on their books to you, like Ronald Weasley does." Harry held back a smirk on his face, as he knew Ron wouldn't have thought that was a blessing.

"We bought them at Diagon Alley on the last day of school," Hermione explained truthfully.

"And Miss Lovegood's explanation that the two of you were… caught up in a broom closet that day?" Harry felt that question was seriously breaching his privacy, but Hermione cut in before he could respond.

"Completely true. We got a little carried away and snuck over to Diagon Alley by Floo after we missed the train." She decided it was far easier just confirm the basic rumours so nobody would bother investigating more deeply. To complete the act, she smiled sweetly at Harry and took his hand. Harry responded warmly, although he kept his right hand ready to draw his wand.

"Ah, young love," Dumbledore said in an unexpectedly sing-song manner. "I was told you two studied together over the summer, is that true?" They both nodded. "Tell me, Miss Granger, how did you manage to get to Mr. Potter's house every day?"

"That's obvious. I didn't," Hermione answered.

"Yeah, I went over to her house," Harry said. "Using the Knight Bus," he added hastily, being the most convenient explanation.

"You left the safety of your home, Harry?"

_There was nothing safe about that place, and it was never my home. I just wasn't brave enough to run away until I found Hermione,_ Harry thought bitterly. He wanted to tell the man just how wrong he was, but there wasn't any reason to divulge his private life to him. "Why is that of any concern to you, headmaster?"

"Do you remember what happened at the end of your first year with Professor Quirrel? The way he tried to touch you, but burned with pain?"

"You said it was my mother's love that protected me?"

"That's correct, Harry. Now, on the night your parents died, I erected wards over the Dursleys' home, which extended your mother's love through her sister to protect you. So long as you reside in that house with your aunt's love, the place you call home, you will be safe." Dumbledore smiled happily. "I was very glad to see you arrive at Hogwarts three years ago, a little rough around the edges, but safe and healthy."

Harry didn't know whether or not he should laugh, cry, or be enraged. He had been beaten, starved, worked like a slave and neglected at the Dursley's home. Love? From Petunia? The very idea that woman had any love for him was ridiculous. He certainly didn't receive any love from Vernon or Dudley, that much was certain. Dumbledore, however, continued.

"It is your capacity to love, Harry, that is your greatest strength. I can see that love is maintained despite spending a summer separated from them," he said, glancing at the curious little instruments on his shelves again. Harry recognized one of them- it was the one Snape was carrying during the Hunt, when he was trying to kidnap Harry. Seeing Harry's sudden interest in his devices, he happily explained.

"You see, Harry, those instruments were how I knew you were healthy and loved. They are still twirling and puffing as strongly as the day I left you with your aunt. Your protection is as strong as it was since the very first day she took you into her arms."

_In other words, they're as weak as ever. Perhaps they never activated in the first place. I don't ever remember Petunia holding me in her arms… or touching me, other than to push me around or slap me for doing something wrong._ Harry paused as he realized the implications- he could have been living for years without protection at all. His survival after the fall of Voldemort could have been purely due to luck.

"Thank you, Headmaster, but what does this have to do with my academic integrity?" Hermione piped up, bringing both of them back to the reason they were up in his office at all.

"Hm? Oh, you've answered all the questions I need to know. Thank you for your time, Miss Granger, and Harry- remember, love is your strength. It will guide you on to the truest path," Dumbledore told them as he ushered them out of the room. As they left, he smiled. He was glad to know that Harry was capable of love, great amounts of love, and so was Hermione. The blood wards were proof of that. Little issues like cheating on an OWL or even a knowledge ritual or two were inconsequential in the long run- so long as the two of them had their love, they could always find redemption from their wrongdoings. Where Voldemort loathed repentance, Harry would revel in it. Where Voldemort fled from death, Harry would embrace it.

* * *

"Completely off his rocker," Harry muttered as he climbed into bed. "What does he know about love, anyways?"

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Why _would_ Snape only accept the top students into his class? Slughorn taught the material just fine to EE students, so it's not that the course itself is exceptionally difficult. To me, this is much like University courses- some professors are simply bad teachers. But they're hired by the universities to do research, with teaching being a required chore. It's expected that only the smartest students get accepted into universities, and they already know how to revise on their own time. I've known many who just skip lectures altogether and only show up for the exams. Snape seems like that kind of teacher to me (except he bullies students as well). He doesn't like teaching, so he only accepts students who are smart enough to learn on their own.

- About time turners: the best explanation I can come up for them is that they're not nearly as powerful as most people think they are. Perhaps they only give the users the illusion of free will and control when they travel back in time, while actually forcing them to simply play out what's already going to happen. How? Magic, I guess. That probably means the Temporal Beacon mechanic is both simpler and more dangerous...


	47. Not Procrastinating

**Author's Notes: **The author of this story is not JK Rowling and thus has very few legal protections.

- Sorry for the delay, but Starcraft 2 is very distracting =)

- I only just realized, after looking through the HP wiki, that Cedric is also in 6th year (with an early birthday). Now he's going to be in some of Harry's classes...

* * *

**Chapter 47: Not Procrastinating**

Harry's first free period was at the beginning of the next day. Normally he would have slept in, but today he wanted to accompany Hermione to breakfast for two reasons. As the excitement of a fourth year in sixth year classes still hadn't died down yet, he could share the burden of fame at the breakfast table, as he knew how much of a pain the extra attention could be. The other reason wasn't the horde students he'd have to avoid- it was the students who were avoiding him. Having lived with Ron's contempt last time, he wasn't expecting much from his friend, but the twins had been very supportive. Harry wasn't sure if he'd ever seen them hold a real grudge before- normally they would just prank their target a little harder than the rest of the school for a few weeks, and all would be forgiven.

As breakfast began, Harry and Hermione both found themselves accosted by the many Ravenclaws who were still interested in their study habits. The twin redheads, however, were easy to pick out as they approached. "Harry, we're here to give you fair warning," Fred said.

"What?"

"You too, Hermione," George added.

"Warning for what?" Hermione asked.

"Charlie did a little explaining before he left for Romania again."

"And he _did_ say that you gave Bill a fair warning about what he was getting himself into before he died." Harry nodded, hoping that was a good thing.

"The heart of the matter, Harry, is that we still lost our brother," Fred told him seriously.

"So you've no longer got immunity," George finished.

"Immunity? You mean from your pranks? I wasn't aware I had it..."

"Oh, you did, our dear Sister-Saving Gryffindor Seeker," explained Fred succinctly.

"We figure it evens out, so now you're at just as much risk as any other student. And that's our fair warning to you. At least you still won't be hit as hard as the Slytherins." The two of them walked away to the breakfast table. Those who knew the twins immediately turned their eyes to Harry and Hermione, expecting something to happen.

"Check our food?" Harry asked.

"And the utensils," Hermione confirmed. They picked random seats at the table just to be sure, but the twins were pretty notorious for somehow always getting their targets.

They checked their plates and utensils, and found nothing. They watched everyone else shovel food onto their own plates and eat without any ill effects. They watched the twins eat as if they were pointedly ignoring them… something was definitely up.

Just as they were starting to relax, dozens of rotten eggs fell onto their plates, splattering their robes as well as several others in the Hall. A quick _scourgify_ cleaned them off easily enough, but they couldn't figure out how the eggs had been placed above them. Several other people laughed, the twins were smirking and taking the credit. Harry was worried he'd have to go to Moody-level paranoia to avoid all of the twins' pranks, but then again, other students just had to live with it.

He checked that his shoes hadn't been tied together or that his robes weren't stuck to the chair as he got up. Hermione cast a few revealing charms on the floor and doorway to make sure there weren't any other pranks up ahead. They checked each other for the odd bits of powder the twins could have snuck on them.

"This is getting ridiculous," Harry said. "We're doing all this over two rotten eggs."

"Well, I'm not wasting my time with this," Hermione answered. "As long as they don't ruin my essays, I'll just ignore them. I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of me freaking out."

"I was just going to take it as practice," Harry said. "I don't think Moody's going to be in the mood to train us again this year."

They went their separate ways after breakfast, with Hermione heading down to the dungeons for Potions while Harry went up to the Room of Requirement to take care of something he couldn't access all summer long- the horcrux at Hogwarts.

* * *

He arrived at the seventh floor corridor, remembering clearly how Voldemort himself had hidden it. The man had been rather pompous in his request of the room, thinking of "the most secretive place in Hogwarts, where even the most treasured gem will remain hidden." Harry took no chances, although he was sure he could find the room with a request that was less wordy. As he stepped inside, the room was piled high with everything ranging from small trinkets and junk to the decayed skeletons of magical beasts. There would be a lot of junk to search through, even though he knew exactly what he was looking for. It seemed that the room provided the same room for Voldemort as it had for everyone else who wanted to hide some of their trash over the past half century.

The room wasn't very large- in fact, as far as Harry could tell, it was the same size room as all the other times he'd requested it. That didn't mean it was an easy search, however. Behind every pile of junk, there seemed to be another pile of junk. _I'm going to have to search through these things properly one day to see if there's anything useful in here,_ Harry thought. _But first things first- time to get rid of that horcrux._ Searching through each pile was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Upon closer inspection, much of the junk did seem somewhat valuable- or, at least, formerly valuable. There seemed to be plenty of tarnished jewellery with missing gems, broken necklaces, mangled bracelets, dented armour, and other no-longer-shiny objects. An ancient diadem would be hard to find among all this, even if the other discarded items like textbooks and broken cauldrons weren't getting in the way.

As he carefully sifted through one heap after another, one particular pile kept catching his attention. He ignored it, knowing he'd get to it eventually and he didn't want to lose his place in his methodical search. He'd found a few useful items already- an old pair of dragonhide gloves, half a set of quidditch padding, and a few pieces of clothing that looked and fit better than Dudley's ever did. Everything was broken in some way but much of it was still useable. He didn't want to miss out on a useful tool if he ever came across one. A short while after resuming his search, he found himself staring at that pile at the back of the room again. He regarded it carefully. There was absolutely nothing special about it- there was some parchment, a broken bookshelf that had topped over, an empty portrait frame, some miscellaneous junk he couldn't recognize, and the top half of a mannequin. There certainly was no diadem as far as he could tell, and nothing particularly interesting.

Another fifteen minutes later the distraction was getting harder and harder to resist. Harry got up from the area he was scouring and trudged over to the back of the room. He didn't really know why it was so special. Pushing the fallen bookcase out of the way, he started digging. There were plenty of old textbooks, some dating back hundreds of years. A chair with two missing legs was tossed aside. A broken trunk containing dozens of cracked orbs and shattered glass nearly spilled on him, but he kept working. Eventually, he picked up a small, wooden box, feeling as if he had found what he was looking for.

Upon opening it up, he found that it _was_ exactly what he'd been searching for. Inside the small box was the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, exactly as Harry had seen in Voldemort's mind. It was a very pretty piece of jewellery, having lost none of its shine over a thousand years of its existence. Harry felt an urge to put it on, wondering how good he'd look wearing it. _Wait a second,_ he paused just before picking it up. _Isn't that kind of thing for girls in beauty pageants?_

He gave his head a shake, wondering where such a vain idea came from. When was the last time he actually worried about looking pretty? Well, the answer to that was the last Yule Ball, but _usually not_ was also a very appropriate answer. Right now he had practicality to worry about- ridding the world of Voldemort and all. But the diadem was rumoured to increase the wearer's intelligence. Or share the knowledge of Ravenclaw. Or something like that. It could be quite a useful tool if the rumours were true. Once again, he found himself reaching for the silvery headband.

As it fell into place around his forehead, Harry didn't feel any different. His mind wasn't any clearer. He didn't feel any knowledge entering his mind. There _was_ something entering his mind, though…

With a sudden panic, Harry brought his mental shields to full strength and knocked the diadem off his head. It had already broken through his first level of occlumency- all of the memories he deemed frivolous and unimportant, as well as everything that he had yet to organize, had been ransacked. The fiery vault that held his real memories was still untouched, thankfully, but the horcrux had managed to tear through the decoy without being detected. Harry thought his occlumency was already pretty good, but evidently there was still much he had to improve upon.

He looked at the diadem laying on the floor in front of him, keeping his occlumency at full strength. He was now keenly aware of the false desire to wear it, but it seemed to be more than a simple compulsion charm. It wanted to communicate or connect with him. Harry knew he had to take it out of the room to try to destroy it (the Chamber of Secrets being the ideal place), but that meant picking it up again. He slipped on the dragonhide gloves he found earlier, hoping they would at least lessen the effects, and reached down.

The closer he was, the more he felt it urging him to wear it again. It was offering power, knowledge, riches, everything it could think of to tempt Harry. It was trying to feed of his darkest desires, but thankfully it wasn't quite hitting the mark because it hadn't dug deep enough into Harry's mind to know what he truly wanted. Thoughts of the Dursleys, bloodied and begging in front of him, flashed through his mind. Images of them were replaced with the twins being humiliated in front of the school as one of their own pranks backfired. Finally, the thought of several of the more attractive girls who offered themselves to him on the train taking the place of Hermione helped him slam the old piece of jewellery into the wooden box it came in. He didn't like what he saw, but thankfully it meant that the horcrux had only managed to get the most shallow and superficial look into him and didn't have any true power to entice him.

Checking the Marauder's map before he left the room, Harry noticed that most of the dots were in the hallways. The first class of the day was already over. He didn't realize his search had taken so long, but he waited until the hall was clear before he stepped out. Running back up to his room to pick up his textbooks for his next class, he wondered if he had enough time to get down to the Chamber before class. Remembering the shortcuts, though, he grabbed his Firebolt and flew down to the chamber straight from the seventh-floor pipe. He dropped the box by the basilisk, making a mental note to take care of it later, and continued on to class.

* * *

"Why are you carrying your broom, Harry?" one of the Ravenclaws asked as Arithmancy class began. It was Lena, who he'd met on the carriage ride. Hermione seemed to be wondering the same thing but had already guessed that the reason wasn't good for public discussion.

"I was almost late for class," Harry answered. It was true- he wouldn't have had time to return the broom to his room and get to class on time.

"You're not supposed to fly through the hallways, Potter," another student said. Another Ravenclaw, with a prefect badge. What was his name again? Samuels?

"There's no rule against flying around the outside of the castle," Harry said. He hoped it was true. It probably was, given how Samuels didn't pursue the issue any further.

As the class began, Hermione whispered to him, "So what _was_ the reason you have your broom?"

"Chamber, after class," Harry answered. Professor Vector got the class started quickly, and although the lecture material was pretty dry, she decided to spice it up a little given the presence of Harry's broom.

"Mr. Potter, since you decided to bring your broom to class, would you care to bring it up to the front for a little demonstration? Don't worry, I won't damage it," she said. She then turned the lecture into the most interesting lesson on arithmancy Harry had ever experienced. She explained the numerology behind the bristle arrangements and placement, bristle to shaft length ratios and the theoretical limits of magical channelling. All things that Harry had never noticed on his broom but it was easily the most captivating class he had so far.

Hermione, of course, was noticeably pleased with Harry, but so was Professor Vector. She'd been teaching her class by the book for a few years now, with the same results. Never had she seen her students actually pay attention so much (aside from those like Hermione who had no problems keeping her focus), and so she decided to start relating arithmancy to real-world objects more often.

As class ended, Harry walked out with a newfound appreciation for his broom, but it didn't last long as Hermione asked him, "Alright, what's down in the Chamber?"

"Another horcrux. Come on, help me destroy it," Harry said. They went to the nearest hidden passage to the chamber, mounting the broom to fly down. When they finally reached the main chamber, Harry warned Hermione, "Keep your occlumency at full strength. This one really affects your mind… it almost got me."

He opened up the box but left it lying on the ground. Once again, he could feel its pull, and so could Hermione. "That's really Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, isn't it?" she murmured in wonder.

"Probably. It's definitely got some kind of dark soul inside of it, though," Harry said. "Just watch me and make sure I don't do anything crazy, alright? I think it's probably going to put up a fight." Putting on the old gloves he found, he picked up the horcrux and stepped closer to the basilisk. The horcrux sensed what he was about to do and was trying everything it could to prevent him from accomplishing it. Harry's mind was being assaulted on every level; he felt the desire to wear it more strongly than ever. His arms and legs were shaking and he was barely keeping his balance and grip on the diadem. As he approached the basilisk, he nearly thought he could see it blink and come back to life and his fear was immensely amplified. He heard a scream from behind him, but when he turned around, Hermione was just watching him with a puzzled look on her face and her wand at the ready.

Keeping himself focused, Harry picked a large fang that looked to still be full of venom and held the diadem just above it, ready to shove it down with all his strength. The goblin-forged silver was much more durable than the leather and paper diary he'd stabbed years ago, though, and the horcrux made one last attempt to save itself. Harry wasn't sure if he had just lost his balance or if his foot had slipped, but he suddenly found himself tumbling forward with his lungs lined up perfectly with the fangs. He could see himself falling in slow motion, millimetres at a time as the venom-coated spikes neared his body while his hands didn't have anything to grasp for support.

"_Mobilicorpus!_" Hermione's hastily cast spell stopped Harry's fall, safely levitating him a few steps back. "Harry? What happened? You've never been that clumsy before!"

"I don't know. I think my leg just spasmed right when I tried to kill that thing," he said. The horcrux was slightly damaged but still intact. The venom was slowly dissolving through the metal and burning straight through the protective enchantments, at least. It would only take a little more venom to get rid of it completely. "I think I'll have to do that again to finish the job," he said, getting ready to pick it up again.

"Oh no, you're not. _Serratossis_." She cast a bone-cleaving spell on one of the fangs and picked it up with one of Harry's gloves. "This should be safer," she said, kicking the horcrux further away from the basilisk's gaping maw.

This time, with the horcrux on the ground and solid grip with both hands on the fang, Harry pushed down on the diadem, which could no longer affect him as much as before. With a solid kneeling position that wouldn't let him lose his balance again, he used his strength instead of his weight to pierce the band between the center jewels with the fang. As the venom slowly ate away through the durable, enchanted metal, Harry fought off the horcrux's last death throes. Hermione placed her hand over Harry's, steadying his grip and taking some of the mental load as the horcrux couldn't deal with a second occluded mind.

There was a clatter as it finally broke, releasing a thick, dark smoke that quickly dissipated. Both of them immediately felt the weight on their minds lift. "Another one down, and only a few more to go," Harry said.

"It's a shame we had to destroy a priceless ancient artefact to do it." Hermione regarded the broken diadem sadly. "So this was what you were doing while I was in class? Going horcrux-hunting on your own?"

"Hey, this one was in a convenient place and I had some free time," Harry said. "How was potions?"

"Depressing! I've been so used to Professor Fleming's lessons that I just started off with the hair tie and bubble-head charms right away, and he tried to punish me for it. Well, the Slytherins laughed as usual but the joke was on them when they stirred in the wrong direction; it exploded in their faces. We were working on the Wakeful Sleep potion, too. Madam Pomfrey says she's going to have to strap them into the beds overnight or else they'll be wandering the halls after dark. A few of the Ravenclaws in the class told me it was a good idea and they'd cast the bubble-head on themselves before they stepped into the classroom next time so Snape wouldn't be able to do anything about it."

"Did he try to do anything to you? Legilimency?" Harry asked.

"I didn't give him the chance. I avoided his eyes the entire time. It seemed to frustrate him all the more, because I'm sure he was trying."

"Good, let's keep him in the dark. I just wish I knew what I could do to convince Fleming to come teach at Hogwarts. Malfoy must have offered him something last time, because he seemed pretty comfortable with his position in the letter. I don't think being a professor at Hogwarts pays well enough."

Hermione turned her head towards the basilisk, then to the fang laying on the ground. Then she sighed. "It's a shame that there aren't any legal potions that can be made from basilisk venom and fangs, otherwise we could convince him that way. These must be worth a lot on the black market," Hermione said.

"Why can't we just do that?" Harry realized. He'd never considered the basilisk as such a valuable resource. He could offer most of it to Fleming… but he'd have to keep some venom for himself. He wasn't sure, but he had a feeling that Fleming was perfectly fine with dealing in the shadier aspects of potion-brewing. "Last time, in the tournament, he even offered to brew some undetectable… performance enhancers," Harry told Hermione. "He's not above a little illicit dealing to make some more money."

That new information took Hermione by surprise, forcing her to re-evaluate the man she'd only known for a few months. Still, his teaching was far more impressive than Snape's and given the choice between them, Fleming was the clear winner. "Fine… but we need to find a way to trade basilisk parts in exchange for tutoring you in private or something. We can't be seen walking around with corrosive venom in our satchels."

* * *

Harry decided to write the letter first and worry about how to actually get Flamel into the Chamber of Secrets without the entire school finding out later. He had to delay that until after classes, though, since the two of them had spent the entire lunch break down in the chamber. The next class was charms, and it was the first class Harry would have with all his fellow 6th year Gryffindors. Harry did know a surprising number of them personally, since much of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was made up of sixth-years.

NEWT level charms focused more on spells that required more mental focus and control, and Professor Flitwick knew one student who had already mastered a good example. "Mr. Potter, I've heard that you mastered the Patronus charm last year. Now tell me, what is it that you need to cast it, beyond the basic wand movements and incantation?"

"You need a happy thought. No, wait, you actually need to _feel_ happy," Harry said.

"Correct! Five points for Gryffindor. Now, would you care to demonstrate the spell for us, Mr. Potter?"

Harry saw all his fellow classmates eyes turn expectantly on him. It would be embarrassing to mess it up now, but at least he had plenty of good memories to make him happy. Winking at Hermione and concentrating on their first _proper_ kiss down in the Chamber, he yelled, "_Expecto Patro-_" but the thoughts suddenly took a turn for something much more sexual, and he stumbled over the last syllable. It turned out to be something that sounded more like "_Expecto Patronuaaa_" as only a silvery mist with a slightly pink tinge erupted from his wand and failed to take form.

"Fred Weasley, with what spell did you hit Mr. Potter?" Flitwick asked shrilly.

"Just a cheering charm," Fred answered innocently. "I figured Harry wouldn't mind a little help."

Harry knew that was definitely _not_ a cheering charm, and so did Professor Flitwick. "I don't want to take away the points that Mr. Potter just earned, Mr. Weasley, so you'll be serving detention with your head of house. You can tell her what charm you _actually_ used. And keep your wand above the desk, where I can see it. Now, Mr. Potter, would you like to try again without any interruption?"

It wasn't that he didn't mind the effects of the spell or that he'd never had such thoughts before- it was more the surprise that caused him to botch the patronus. Shaking off the effects of the spell, he concentrated on his victory during the Trial of Water and cast the spell again.

This time, a pure silvery mist burst from his wand that quickly formed into the shape of an… owl? For a second, Harry thought his patronus had turned into Hedwig for some reason, but noticed the legs were a little longer and the owl itself was a little smaller. The people who were at the Quidditch game in third year knew his patronus was a stag; it had hilariously charged down Draco. A lot of them wondered aloud about the change, but none of them as much as Harry. What did it mean? Well, obviously it meant that Hermione had now taken the place as the most important person in his life; but what about his father? The patronus was one of the only links he had to man he'd never met but was always being compared to. He'd have to talk to Sirius about it, soon.

Professor Flitwick interrupted his thoughts when he answered the class's questions. "Ten points for Gryffindor for the excellent demonstration of the patronus charm. Now to let everyone know, a patronus _can_ change forms. I expect that Mr. Potter here has had a rather interesting summer. Secondly, that charm was only an example; it does have rather limited uses now that the dementors are back in Azkaban and there are no lethifolds native to Britain."

The rest of class was much more mundane, as the charm they actually worked with was an advanced levitation charm- _volanium leviosa_. The only difference between this one and the first-year _wingardium _was that they needed to clearly envision the flight path of the object before they cast the spell, once it hit they no longer needed to guide it with their wands. Most of the class had an easy time with it, and the twins were having fun trying to get their feathers to crash into everyone else's. Harry wondered if they were like this in every class, every year.

By the end of the class, Harry had already mastered the charm, as had Hermione. While most of the class was still practicing, he decided to try casting it with his left-handed wand, something he'd never had a chance to do all summer long. The darker, rowan-and-dragon heartstring wand, being a lesser match than his holly and phoenix feather wand, combined with the fact that he was using his off-hand, meant the magic was weaker and the wand movements were imperfect. He resolved to practice more with it during his spare time.

The students all moved as a unit to their next class, which was another core class where nobody had failed their OWLs. Defense Against the Dark Arts with Moody. Being fairly certain that Moody would spring a trap on the class like last time, Harry decided to warn the Gryffindors about a possible ambush by Moody. The class was doubled with the Hufflepuffs, though, and most of them had arrived before the Gryffindors.

Just as the last student sat down at their desks, the door slammed shut by itself and the chairs instantly warped, strapping down their arms and tying them down. Harry, along with the rest of the Quidditch team members, were already on their guard and had the reflexes to match. A quick _finite_ spell was all that was needed to free Hermione, but he couldn't continue with the other students as Moody stepped out from the back of the room once again and started hitting them with body-bind spells. Harry easily deflected them with a _Protego_.

With Hermione at his side, Harry was confident he could take on Moody, especially after having been given half a years' worth of training by the man and the fact that they were limited to classroom-safe spells. He boldly stepped forward to take the offensive, knowing that Hermione would be more than capable of defending, reviving, and restoring him to normal from any jinx or hex Moody was likely to try.

Compared to the training in the Forbidden Forest, this was no challenge at all. Moody had revealed his position and was outnumbered. Harry opened up with his standard, silent, Dueller's Hello, followed by a repeated chain of the "twitchy itch" combination, one that was actually more useful in combat, since it incorporated both _stupefy_ and _expelliarmus_ in the chain, with the minor shrinking and itching hexes spaced in between them. The shrinking hex was more useful than most wizards gave it credit for, as constricting robes could limit mobility, create a choking hazard, or just be very uncomfortable. On Moody, however, Harry was aiming to hit his artificial leg with it, which would have thrown the man completely off balance. With only a few _Protego_ charms and some banishing charms from Hermione, Harry was protected from Moody's spells (and objects) that were flung at him.

Harry never actually managed to land that shrinking hex, but he did force Moody on the defensive long enough for the rest of the class to come to their senses and join in. Being assaulted from all angles now, he was forced to cast the extremely draining variant of _Protego_ which completely surrounded his body. "Stop! Six of you, at least, have proven yourselves to be ready for a fight," Moody said. As the spell-fire abated, he lowered his wand and started hobbling up to the front of the class. He was looking at Harry suspiciously, while the rest of the class was regarding their new professor with shock and Harry with awe. This certainly wasn't the way Moody had planned for the class to start out.

"Now, who was it that warned all of you about my little… introduction? I thought I made it quite clear to the other classes that this test had to be a surprise," Moody growled.

"Harry." George and Fred were quick to point fingers, just to see Harry squirm a little. They didn't expect Harry to be the one who received the punishment in the end, since he obviously got his information from somewhere else. They just didn't realize it happened to be from another time.

"Potter, you're staying with me after class. We've got a lot to discuss," Moody said, enunciating every syllable. Harry didn't like the sound of that.

"Wait outside the door for me, Hermione? Maybe we could figure out if he's imperiused or not for sure this time," Harry whispered.

"Of course," she answered.

This year, their main focus of study would be the one magical danger that they hadn't touched on in earlier years- other wizards. It was decidedly different from what he had taught the fourth-years. His opening lecture made two things quite clear to the entire class- first, he was truly an experienced combatant; and second, he truly was as paranoid as the rumours suggested. The main difference from all the dark creatures and plants they'd learned about earlier was that, although many of them were magically powerful or resistant to spells, most of them were fairly predictable and often had specific charms to manage them for good, like the patronus charm for dementors. Humans, on the other hand, had variety- which was why Moody was always checking his food, keeping a magical eye on everyone's wands, casting spell-revealing charms on every doorway and staircase, and lined his office with sneakoscopes and other dark detectors.

At the end of class, everyone left with a healthy appreciation for having all their limbs and eyeballs intact. Harry stayed behind as Moody had requested.

"That's some mighty impressive duelling you demonstrated for us, Mr. Potter. Can you tell me where you learned to fight like that?" Moody asked.

"Do I have to?" Harry asked. Moody wasn't amused. "I got it from a book," he answered.

"Very funny, Potter. What are you trying to hide from me?"

"Well, if I was trying to hide it from you, I wouldn't tell you now, would I?" Harry answered snidely. He decided to go for broke and followed up with, "After all, you could be under an imperius and working for a crazy wizard or something." Thankfully enough, he didn't feel any hint of apprehension from Moody when he said that.

"It would take more than an average wizard to place an imperius on me, Potter," Moody answered. "Now you tell me who you learned to duel from, because being cooped up in a Muggle home with books all summer doesn't make you into a fighter."

"First, I don't see why I have to tell you about my summer unless it's a homework assignment. Secondly, how do I know your eye isn't a spy for some crazy wizard? You might be alright but I don't trust those prosthetics." _Wow, that rhymed so well!_

"Why do you keep talking about crazy wizards, Potter? Were you the one who sent me that warning over the summer?"

"Yes," answered Harry, surprising Moody with his forwardness. "I heard a rumour that you might be ambushed by a… uh… crazy wizard and they were planning to do it after the world cup."

"That's it? Where did you hear this rumour?"

"While I was shopping," Harry said, instantly stonewalling again. "Now, will you excuse me? You're starting to act like Professor Snivellus."

* * *

"He could have faked his death," Moody said. "And de-aging potion lasts much longer than polyjuice. But remember that I trained James myself during our Order meetings. This Potter was fighting like he knew me." Several of the staff members at the meeting gasped in surprise.

"You couldn't possibly be convinced by that alone, Alastor," Dumbledore said.

"No, it was a few things he said afterwards," Moody said. "Tell me, is Harry known for being a prankster?"

Professor McGonagall answered for everyone. "No, that title has been taken by the Weasley twins. Harry gets into his fair share of trouble but he's never been out to cause trouble himself."

"So, the very opposite of James Potter, you'd say?"

Most of the professors nodded in agreement, except for Snape. "I disagree. Potter is the same arrogant ruffian as his father and has never had any regard for school rules."

"And what do you care about rules, Snivellus?" Moody barked in laughter. "Look, he said a few odd things during our conversation together, and that was one of them. James Potter always had that nickname for his favourite Death Eater. Do you all recall what he called Voldemort?"

"Crazy wizard who was probably just angry that he never got a decent… lay," McGonagall answered. "He could always find some humour, even in the middle of a war."

"And that disrespect got the fool killed," Snape interjected.

"Maybe it did, maybe it didn't. I've never met anyone else who's got the stones to call Voldemort that, even after his death, until now. I think Potter was joking that I was a spy for Voldemort. He used to do that during the war, too."

"Does anybody remember what James Potter's patronus was? Harry's is no longer a stag; it's changed to some sort of owl," Flitwick told the rest of them.

"Some forest animal. Elk, moose, or something with horns," McGonagall answered again. "That doesn't support your theory, Moody."

"That doesn't matter," Moody stated. "It takes a pretty major life-altering event to change a wizard's patronus, and I think facing Voldemort, faking your own death and losing your wife would count. I doubt a summer's worth of studying did that for Harry Potter. This is a different person we're dealing with."

"I have to admit your idea is far-fetched, Alastor, but it is the most convenient explanation for his newfound skills and change in attitude. Nevertheless, we need to be sure if the current Harry Potter is actually an impostor before we jump to conclusions."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Rowling barely named a fraction of the characters in the school, and that means there's plenty of 6th year OC's I might have to make up if I ever go into any detail for the classroom work. There's only so many times Harry can go to class with "generic Hufflepuff" and "generic Ravenclaw." Oh well.

- I just realized that at the end of this chapter, how much resemblance it bears The Lie I've Lived, but flipped around.


	48. Contacts

**Author's Notes: **Rowling sinks ships!

- I have to wonder why Harry was such an... average student in the first few books. He was so excited to discover a whole new world, that magic is real, and have the chance to leave the Dursleys behind forever... and then he quickly becomes an average student where learning magic is just a chore like learning math is for muggles. I expected him to be more like Hermione, minus the bossiness.

* * *

**Chapter 48: Contacts**

_Draco,_

_It has been nearly two weeks since you have returned to Hogwarts and our honoured houseguest has been getting anxious to hear from you. I would like to remind you that your mother wishes to see you again. We eagerly await your owl._

_Sincerely,_

_Your father._

Draco read the short letter with trepidation. His body unconsciously prepared for his fight-or-flight response, but he had nowhere to flee and couldn't possibly fight. He'd arrived at Hogwarts this year with the greatest humbling of his life.

The day he went shopping for his school supplies, he returned to find a strange man in his house. He looked like some kind of street rat- how or why the man had broken into Malfoy Manor was a mystery. Draco called out to the house-elves to throw the man out, but none of them responded. He proceeded to draw his wand, but only then realized that neither his father nor mother had followed suit. Instead, they were staring at him with shock.

In the following days, Draco had mostly been confined to his room, "for his own safety" as his father explained it. The only time he was let out of his room was for meals, which were nothing more than simple dishes that were prepared horridly. His complaints only earned his mother's ire, as apparently she had cooked them herself- the family's house elves had all been slaughtered upon the strange man's arrival. Draco had no idea what was going on, but he'd caught glimpses of his own father grovelling and begging for forgiveness. He'd never done that for anyone- not the minister, not Dumbledore, not even for the head of the DMLE the last time she received a warrant to "inspect" their home.

He foolishly decided that he'd had enough one day and stormed out of his room, demanding that the man leave. When he walked into the parlour, he was instantly thrown against one of the chairs, smashing it to pieces and knocking the breath out of him. As he lay on the floor, barely able to observe the scene as he winced in pain, he heard his father beg for the man to spare Draco and his mother. A different voice had spoken, coming from a half-human, half-wooden abomination that ordered Draco to retrieve the next most-accessible "item," which was at Hogwarts. The punishment for failure would, naturally, be death.

Not Draco's, death, however. He wasn't the one to swear an Unbreakable Vow. His mother did, in his place. Unfortunately for her, she was deemed the most useless of the Malfoys, as Lucius still controlled the fortune and held sway at the Ministry, while Draco had easy access to Hogwarts, which seemed important to the half-human, half-wooden abomination that his father regarded with the utmost fear. If he didn't find that diadem by the end of the month and send it back home, he would find himself one parent short.

His instructions had been clear- there was a room he could summon with a particular thought and he was to retrieve the diadem inside of it, in secret. Getting Crabbe and Goyle off his back had been difficult the first week and he'd only managed to successfully call up the room once in between classes. Sneaking around that far away from the dungeons was already causing some suspicions from his classmates, especially since he was so close to his rival house's residence. He'd managed an hour or two each time, but after going through the entire room and not finding it, he realized he might have to sneak out after curfew and comb through its contents all night to be absolutely sure he hadn't missed anything.

That brought him back to where he was standing right now- right outside the hidden room. He tried summoning it several times, but it didn't work. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the door had already been summoned, but it had blended into the wall. That could only mean one thing- somebody else knew about the room. He burst inside with his wand drawn to encounter… nobody. Someone had been here, no doubt about it. Everything had been moved around since the last time he had been here. His task wasn't so easy any more- he needed to inform his father right away. This forced independence and responsibility was far too much for him to handle and he desperately needed advice.

* * *

Harry only just managed to cast a disillusionment charm on himself and press up against the wall when he heard the door open. At first, he thought he'd been careless. Nobody had ever stumbled upon the room before when he requested the hidden door. Harry prepared to stun him, but the boy left in a hurry with a very worried look on his face. His actions left Harry puzzled. There wasn't any surprise on Draco's face; in fact, it very much mirrored his own expression- surprise and worry that somebody else knew about the room.

From the map, he could tell that Draco was heading directly to the dungeons again. Whatever the boy was planning to do, he was going to do it where Harry couldn't follow safely, and there were a few objects he'd found from his last few days of rummaging that he wanted to take back to the dorms to show Hermione. He found her doing her homework in the common room, so he plopped himself down on an armchair beside her. She didn't react to his presence at all as she worked on her History essay. Harry wasn't sure if it was because she was just concentrating really hard on her work or if she was giving him the silent treatment for choosing "dumpster diving" in the Junk Room over his homework.

"So… Draco knows about the room," Harry said nonchalantly.

A loud scratching of quill across parchment told Harry she _was_ paying attention. Pulling him into a more secluded corner of the room, she began grilling him immediately. "Alright, what did you do, Harry?"

"Thanks for having so much faith in me, Hermione," Harry huffed. "I was wondering if you'd want to help me investigate how he found out."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "You mean he didn't follow you in? How else would he know? He didn't discover it on his own last time."

"I don't know, and that's what's so weird about it. I think he was worried when he realized someone else knew about this room, and then he rushed straight to the dungeons. Are you going to help me tail him and see what he's up to?"

"I will because this is important, Harry, but you'd better stop spending all your time in that Junk Room and start studying! We need to learn as much as we can to take down Voldemort, so you need to put your time to better use."

"Searching the room _was_ useful! I'll show you what I've found later," Harry said, patting his pockets. "Look, he's leaving the dorms now. Put your books and meet me back here in one minute." While Hermione packed up her work, Harry unceremoniously dumped his findings into his trunk, grabbed his invisibility cloak, and ran back downstairs.

They expected him to return to the Room of Requirement, but instead he turned to the owlery. They caught up with him just in time to see him tie a letter to his family owl's leg. Draco wasted no time after watching the owl fly away and immediately turned around. Hermione, watching the map, said, "I think he's going back to the Room. Come on!"

"Wait, I think I'll try following the letter," Harry said. "Maybe even snatch it from the Malfoy owl." Hedwig woke from her perch and gave him a disapproving look. Feeling like he was being scolded for an offense against post owls, Harry added, "I won't _hurt_ him, I promise!"

"What are you planning on doing, Harry?"

The truth was that he wasn't really planning anything, it was a spur of the moment decision. "I'm going to chase down that letter. You can follow Draco."

"Chase down the letter? Your broom's back at the-" Leaving the cloak with Hermione, Harry took a running jump over the ledge of the owlery and nearly shocked Hermione to death, until he swooped back into view in his osprey form.

The owl was moving quickly, as Draco had clearly marked the letter as urgent. His animagus form wasn't exactly ideal for high-speed chases, as ospreys naturally hunted around lakes. It was pulling further and further away, but by a stroke of luck the owl suddenly changed direction. Harry didn't have any time to figure out why as he altered course, enough to close much of the distance.

His only chance at getting the letter was to cast a spell at it. And no cutting charm either; he honestly didn't want to hurt an innocent owl even if he hadn't promised Hedwig. That left him with the untying charm to loosen the string tying the letter to the owl's leg. And he couldn't cast the spell in his owl form, only in his human form, whether or not he had the wand incorporated into the transformation or not. Maybe he could ask Professor McGonagall about it discreetly later, but right now that meant he had a few seconds to land and cast the spell, hopefully hitting a moving target that would quickly be out of range.

That is, unless he transformed and cast the spell in mid-air.

_No, that's ridiculous. Hermione was probably right- this would have been much easier with the Firebolt and the invisibility cloak,_ Harry thought. _Getting a spell off mid-air and transforming back's almost impossible_, he told himself. Like the Leaping Lemur Snitch-Snatch in Quidditch, where the seeker leapt off his broom to catch the snitch and, if they were lucky, caught their broom again as they fell. Which Harry had performed once before. In practice, at least.

_Here goes nothing._ Harry kept his keen eyes trained on the owl as he swooped higher into the air to give himself a little more air time. Turning back into a human, he began his tumble, desperately keeping his eyes fixed on his target as he cast his spells. He was used to the feeling of freefall from his fast dives in Quidditch, but his instinct kept nagging at him to grab on to something solid, like the broom he didn't have. His left arm flailed gracelessly, but he still managed to keep a solid grip on his wand with his right hand and launched three untying charms he plummeted towards the ground. The ground was rushing towards him like an unstoppable freight train as he quickly transformed back into a bird. The air resisted his feathers' mighty flap as he strained his wings, just barely scraping the ground with his talons as he took off again immediately. Looking ahead, he saw the letter had successfully been untied from the owl's leg.

The Malfoy owl wasn't just going to give its job up that easily. The large bird immediately dove to retrieve its letter, which was fluttering to the ground. Harry managed to swoop by just in time, screeching angrily and throwing the post owl off track. He circled around to retrieve the letter but, much like Hedwig, the great horned owl was too proud to simply let an attacker take its package without a fight. A loud, angry hoot announced its intent to battle as it cut across in front of Harry. As both the raptors danced through the air, both of them were keeping an eye on the parchment that was being swept across the ground by the wind.

Twirling and flapping in an effort to keep ahead of the attacking owl, Harry managed to find himself just above the parchment and went into a near-vertical dive like the many he'd practiced over the summer. The Malfoy owl attempted to arc around, sweeping across the grass to claw at Harry after he landed, but Harry quickly transformed back into himself. The owl smacked into Harry's chest with a thud, hitting a target that was fifty times heavier than it had originally expected. It flopped on the ground, conscious but dazed.

"Sorry, I'm going to have to keep this for myself," Harry said to the owl, putting the parchment in his pocket. As an osprey again, he flew straight back to the castle. Right when he arrived in the owlery, he heard a hooting from behind. "What, do you want to fight again?"

He turned and saw that it wasn't the Malfoy owl, but a different one here to deliver a letter to him. The little owl was surprised at his hostility but still stuck out its leg, which Harry accepted. "So… what have you got for me?"

_Dear Mr. Potter_

_I have arranged for one day off that should coincide with your Hogsmeade weekend. I will meet you on Sunday, and if you can show me the basilisk, then I can arrange for an apprenticeship in exchange for harvesting the body parts._

_Floyd Fleming, Maître de Potions Intl., __Westeuropäischer Großmeister im Zaubertrankbrauen__, Certified British Potions Master._

Harry grinned. Even Mr. Fleming wouldn't be able to say no once he saw the basilisk itself inside the Chamber. He opened up Draco's letter, hoping it would contain equally good news.

_Dear Father_

_Somebody else knows about the room. I need advice._

_Your Son_

Harry stared blankly at the letter he'd fought so hard to acquire. Whatever Draco was intending to do, he was being extremely cautious about it. At least now knew that Lucius knew about the Room of Requirement. Had he always known, or had something changed this time around? Putting the letters in his pockets, he went to search for Hermione to see what she could make of it.

* * *

"Draco must have tried to contact us," Narcissa said, inspecting the loose bit of string that the owl was presenting her. "Perhaps he was going to tell us he's finally succeeded?"

"Even if he did, he still managed to get his letter intercepted," Lucius replied bitterly. "I swear, you coddled him far too much. My father would have turned Draco's cheeks red for his brutishness and utter lack of subtlety."

"Could you please have a little more faith in your own son?"

"What little faith I have in his ability to achieve pales in comparison to my faith in the Dark Lord's ability to punish me using your death. How hard is it to retrieve something when you have every instruction on how it's hidden? He must have sent Draco on a fool's errand."

"Or perhaps not. Someone else is watching him closely."

"Dumbldore, obviously. The best I can do is keep him tied up at the Wizengamot during the upcoming Black trial to give Draco some breathing room. Let's hope he finds it in time."

* * *

After chasing down Draco and his letter both turned out to be a bust, Harry made good on his promise to study more diligently. They wouldn't get anything done by wasting even more time following him around, as the letter only revealed nothing that they couldn't have guessed. Trying to intercept all his mail and following him every day would do more harm than good- they had to keep their secret from Draco as well. He seemed to be spending more and more time there, so Harry decided stop scavenging and start sorting through the bounty from looting the Room.

"Oh, omnioculars!" Hermione inspected a pair of the devices that had been extremely popular during the World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament.

"It can only enlarge things now, like normal binoculars. There were others, but they were all cracked," Harry told her. Of course, that seemed to be the reason most of the item were tossed into the Junk Room.

"I'll figure something out. I've wanted to study one of these all summer, but we never got around to buying one."

They continued to organize the things Harry had found between "usable," "repairable," and "junk." Harry had discovered that, aside from broken furniture, objects from Mr. Filch's list of banned items had made up a significant portion of the room's contents. Most of them were even working well enough to be considered "usable," although Hermione considered them all to be "junk." Ministry-banned items seemed to have found their way into the room as well, like flying carpets and an enchanted bicycle. They decided to keep some mostly-empty notebooks, spare quills, and spare potions supplies for obvious reasons. Harry charmed some old clothing to fit himself and kept an alarm clock to fix up as well, while Hermione kept a few seemingly-ancient texts for study.

Harry was particularly proud of one find- a metallic glove that was very similar to the one Cedric used in the tournament, except all its jewels were now missing. The metal itself was very tarnished and hadn't held up nearly as well as the Sword of Gryffindor or the diadem, so Harry wondered if it really was a goblin-forged gloves. "If only I could find some actual jewels to put back into these sockets, maybe I could get it to work," Harry said hopefully.

"You work on that, I'll work on the omnioculars. Hey, what's this?" Hermione asked, reaching for the last object hidden far underneath Harry's bed.

"No, wait! It's not finished!" Harry reached out to stop her, but it was too late. She pulled out a soft, but torn, stuffed animal.

"Not finished?" She pulled out a stuffed animal, which immediately walked over to one of the textbooks Hermione had open and closed it.

"It was supposed to be your birthday present," Harry said. "You know how I can barely afford anything any more… I'd like to give the Weasleys more if I could… but anyways, I figured I could fix that up for you, add a few charms, and make it your birthday present. When it's done it'll remember your page for you in the books that it closes. For now, it just closes books." The bear crawled over to another book and slammed it shut.

"Oh… that's sweet, Harry. I guess the surprise is ruined but I look forward to when it's working properly," she said, nudging the bear back under the bed.

A quiet cough from behind them caused them to turn around. Ron was standing at the doorway. "Did you really bankrupt yourself to pay Bill? So much you can't even afford to give Hermione a present?"

"Well, not completely bankrupt, but I couldn't pay him any more until I'm of age. And there were four other cursebreakers and four hitwizards to pay as well. I was hoping to hire him for a few more jobs after that," Harry said, thinking of the other horcruxes he'd have to hit next summer.

"Why didn't the two of you let me in on your plans? We could have faced him together, like everything else we've done over the years."

"We didn't face him at all! That's what Bill was there for," Hermione said in exasperation.

"And she knew because I ended up staying over at Hermione's for the summer. I would have hired Bill on my own if I was stuck at the Dursleys," he lied. Seeing Ron accept the explanation let him tack on another one. "To be honest, we could only watch. That's why we studied so hard over the summer, to make sure we're ready to finish off Voldemort once and for all."

"Really? But you've faced Voldemort before! Twice! Why would you just start studying now? And how did you get everything done so quickly?"

"Err… I started last year, actually. Hermione tutored me. The whole basilisk thing made me realize how lucky I was, and I can't depend on luck," Harry said tentatively. Lie after lie was piling on now, but at least they were plausible. "Do you want to… practice some spells with us, too, after classes?"

"Yeah, I'd like that. You know, for a while I didn't want to talk to you because… well… Bill and everything… but then I figured it wasn't your fault, you know? Charlie's of age, and he can decide for himself what was dangerous. And… uh… none of that really stopped us from going down for the philosopher's stone in first year, yeah? I already lost a brother, and I don't want to lose my friends, too."

Harry's grin widened. He was impressed that Ron was taking a more mature attitude. "We can start right away. I can show you where we can practice after dinner, then." Hermione was surprised at Ron's change in attitude, but welcomed him back as well. The trio made their way back down to dinner together for the first time in ages (at least, to Harry and Hermione).

An owl for Harry swooped in front of his bowl of soup just as he was about to begin. It dropped off a hastily scribbled letter and went on its merry way. Harry unravelled it, and to his delight it was a letter from Sirius!

_Dear Harry,_

_Just as you said… some Ministry aurors came to France and told me I'm getting a trial! They escorted me back to England… no dementors, no shackles, nothing! It's amazing, I'm sure they'll find me innocent in no time at all. The trial starts tomorrow. I'm sure I'll be a free man in time for dinner!_

_Your godfather,_

_Sirius Black_

Harry let out a loud victory whoop from his seat, causing several people to stare. He didn't care, though, and shared the good news with Ron and Hermione. Hopefully this meant he could finally have a godfather to go back to.

After dinner, they took Ron up to an empty classroom and showed him the basics of fourth- and fifth-year charms. Hermione used the time to familiarize herself with her spare wand, as did Harry. The practice, and occasional flubbing of the spells, was enough to remind each of them of the better times they had in earlier years.

* * *

Harry leapt at the paper that Friday to see the results of the trial. Sirius's innocence hadn't made front-page news, as Hermione predicted. Much like Peter Pettigrew's trial, much of the focus was not on Sirius's innocence but on something else that happened in the courtroom that day.

_**Malfoy Accuses Dumbledore of Conspiracy Against Noble Families**_

_By Andrea Anderson_

_The recent, delayed trial of the Head of a Noble House caused some members of the Wizengamot to wonder how their very own rights could have been violated so badly. The heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black was held in custody for an extended period of time while awaiting trial, and became the Head of House when the previous head, Orion Black, passed on. Being in custody prevented him from claiming his inheritance or retaining his family's trusted solicitors._

_How did this unfortunate accident occur? According to Wizengamot member Lucius Malfoy, it was not an accident at all, but a deliberate plot to eliminate competition by Dumbledore. It has long been known that the House of Black has often stood in opposition to many of Dumbledore's liberal and muggle-oriented proposals, such as increased scholarships for muggle-borns or a muggle-education fund for squibs. The Malfoys, long-time allies of the Blacks, have often found themselves in the same position._

_Albus Dumbledore, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, shared authority with the head of the DMLE and the Minister of Magic when it came to high-profile crimes. He has been called in for questioning, as have the former head of the DMLE, Bartemius Crouch…_

"Malfoy? All this time we've been wondering how to get Dumbledore off our backs and Malfoy's the one that does it for us?" Hermione whispered to Harry. Sure enough, the staff table was missing the headmaster today.

"He does raise a really good point, though. Why didn't Sirius even get a trial? Why would Dumbledore let him rot in Azkaban without proof?" Harry realized he'd never realized this injustice had occurred until now. He would have to ask Sirius about it when they met at Hogsmeade… tomorrow!

* * *

Harry couldn't stop bouncing off the walls until Saturday came. He practically dragged Hermione and Ron to Hogsmeade ahead of all the other students to get to the Three Broomsticks. The only person who was even more eager to be there was, apparently, Sirius himself. He already had a table ready and waiting when the trio came barrelling through the door.

"Harry! How have you been? I'm sorry I couldn't take you home last summer… Lily's sister was a foul woman, and so was her husband. I'm not letting you stay with them for another year, I promise this time."

"Don't worry, Sirius. It wasn't your fault. My summer wasn't bad at all, actually. I spent it with Hermione," he said, giving his girlfriend a hug. Then again, Sirius didn't know about the girlfriend part yet. He'd save that surprise for later.

"So you took care of him this summer? You have my eternal thanks, Hermione. And tell Crookshanks I said hi, too."

"I will. Congratulations on getting pardoned, Mr. Black."

"Ah, I wasn't fully pardoned. They charged me with breaking and entering, child endangerment, petty theft, being an unregistered animagus, and prison breakout. I guess I did a lot of stupid things trying to get to Peter."

"Wait, they charged you for breaking out of prison when you weren't even supposed to be in there in the first place?"

Sirius just shrugged in reply. "Apparently it's illegal to try to escape, whether or not you're supposed to be in there. Don't worry about it. That's all in the past, and I just want to enjoy my freedom." He turned to Ron and extended his hand. "I heard your brother played a big part in catching Peter. I'm sorry for your loss, Ron, but I'll do what I can to make it up to your entire family."

Ron silently accepted Sirius's gratitude, not knowing what to say. It was obvious that the loss of Bill had still left a hole in his heart that had yet to heal. "Thanks, Mr. Black. I don't think mum or dad would want to accept anything…"

"Nonsense! The least I can do is get you a proper owl, for starters. How's that tiny little furball doing?"

"What tiny furball?" Ron asked. "What are you talking about?"

"The one I sent with Harry's letter and Hogsmeade permission slip! I said he was yours… you should have received it on the last day of school!"

_Pigwidgeon? That hyperactive little owl? I wonder where he went..._ Harry recalled that he received the letter while on the train… but he was hiding out inside Hogwarts last time. What _had_ become of his Hogsmeade permission slip? "I was a little… preoccupied on the last day. I never received an owl from you until my birthday," he explained.

As if on cue, Professor McGonagall strode in, giving a harsh glare at Harry. "Mr. Potter," she said in her sternest voice. "You have yet to hand in a permission slip that allows you to leave Hogwarts grounds. Then you have the audacity to run from me when I attempted to stop you! If only I were younger…"

"Professor McGonagall! My favourite teacher!" Sirius laughed. "Hey, since I'm free and I'm officially Harry's godfather, why don't I just give him permission right now and you can forget the whole thing? Today's a day for celebration! Sit down and have a drink with us. In fact, drinks for everyone!" He blew a kiss at Rosemerta, faked a swoon in return. She immediately began filling up glasses of butterbeer for the kids and firewhiskey for all the adults in the restaurant.

Amazingly enough, Sirius managed to tame McGonagall enough that she decided not to give Harry any detention. Just before she left, though, she brought up the last day of third year and how Harry got away without detention for that, as well. From there, Harry and Hermione couldn't do anything to steer the conversation away from the incident with Luna, and the two of them were forced to stick to their cover story.

"Luna caught us snogging," Harry said reluctantly. Ron looked shocked and Sirius couldn't hold his laughter in.

"The two of you… what? How did…" Ron couldn't form a complete sentence when his unconscious denial of the obvious was shattered.

"Congratulations! I was meaning to ask you if she was your lucky lady when we finally met in the Shrieking Shack!"

"We weren't a couple at the time," Harry answered. "It was a little afterwards that we discovered how we really felt about each other."

"And you couldn't wait until after summer to get your snogs in, eh? Don't worry, Harry. I approve. You know how many times James used his Head Boy status to sneak in a few late-night inspections with the Head Girl?" He wiggled his eyebrows in the if-you-know-what-I-mean manner, causing Harry to groan in disgust.

"Sirius, I didn't need to know that about my parents, thank you very much…"

Ron finally managed to recover from his shock and blurted out the first thing on his mind, while the sections of his brain that controlled tactfulness were still struggling. "But… but… you're only having a bit of fun, right? I mean, you can have your pick of any girl you want, like Parvati! Or Katie, even. You're Harry Potter! You're not going to stick around with Hermione, are you?"

"Oh? And what is that supposed to mean?" Hermione gave Ron a challenging, icy stare.

"I… uh… not that you're… well, you can't say… um… they're just really pretty, you know? Everyone knows that. Harry would be really happy with them..." Ron stammered out, his nerves breaking down under Hermione's glare.

"I think Hermione's really pretty," Harry said, trying to defuse the situation, but it didn't help.

"You think Harry's as shallow and inconsiderate as you, Ron?" She got up and dragged Ron by the ear outside, ranting the whole way. "Is that the only thing you care about? How a girl looks? Would you be happy with one of those Slytherin girls…" She was certainly giving Ron an earful, as Harry could still hear her muffled voice outside as the door slammed shut.

"So… that's the girl in your life, Harry? I bet she's quite the brainy one as well, isn't she?"

"How did you know?" Harry was certain Sirius didn't have time to get a good impression of Hermione beforehand.

"She's just like Lily. She was never afraid to give James a piece of her mind when he said something stupid. Good thing he smartened up and worked hard to get Head Boy status. I can't tell you the number of times she scolded me! The two of you remind me of James and Lily…"

Hearing that his relationship with Hermione reflected those of his parents made him even more proud of confessing his feelings for her. After all, if their love was strong enough for them to produce Harry, then maybe… wait, Harry didn't want to go there. Too soon. "Thanks, Sirius. You know, I was wondering if you could teach me something," he said, changing the subject.

"How to be an animagus? How'd you like my birthday gift, Harry? I can coach you through the harder parts."

"No, actually… Hermione and I have something to show you later. We need to learn how to apparate," Harry said.

"Apparate? Harry, you're only fourteen! You're not allowed to learn until you're sixteen, and you can't do it by yourself until you're seventeen."

"Hey, you were an unregistered animagus when you were still in school," Harry countered. "And there aren't any other adults I could ask that might be willing. You're the only one I can count on for this." Harry attempted to pull out his pleading puppy-dog eyes on Sirius, but it was unnecessary. The potential for mischief and the chance to bond with his godson was enough to convince him.

"Touché, Harry. How about we learn in the Shrieking Shack on weekends? You still remember how to sneak in there, right?"

"Sure thing, Sirius," Harry grinned.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Last time around, Ron received Pig on the train while Harry and Hermione snuck off and passed the permission slip on, but this time he was caught up in the search for the "missing" students. Poor little Pig, I'm not sure where he disappeared to.


	49. Lessons to Learn

**Author's Notes: **If I made money from this, it wouldn't be on

* * *

**Chapter 49: Lessons to Learn**

It was a busy Sunday planned for Harry, which began with a trip back down to the Chamber of Secrets to nab himself one of the broken-off fangs, carefully putting it in a thick leather bag (found in the Room of Requirement, naturally). He trusted Fleming would be talented enough to recognize a basilisk fang when he saw one. The alarm clock he found would be put to its first use because Fleming insisted the meeting be early in the day, before he had to get back to work, combined with the fact that France was an hour ahead. After the meeting with Fleming, he'd have the afternoon with Sirius, where he could practice apparition. Ron would join him and Hermione then, because he wasn't inclined to wake up early to get to Hogsmeade by breakfast time just to talk about potions. Finally, he saved the last few hours at Hogsmeade for Hermione's birthday dinner, which Ron and Sirius would hopefully stay for.

As Harry stepped into the Three Broomsticks, he asked Madam Rosemerta if Fleming had arrived yet. "He's reserved a room upstairs, but he hasn't arrived, Mr. Potter. You're welcome to wait inside." Harry and Hermione went upstairs and ran into Sirius, who was stepping out of the shared bathroom for the overnight guests.

"Harry? I thought we weren't meeting until this afternoon."

"I'm meeting someone for business. Why are _you_ still here?" Harry responded. "Didn't you go home?"

"Nah, too much hassle. And I never liked my home anyway; the inn is much more comfortable choice if I'm going to see you two days in a row. What's this business meeting of yours?"

"I need to learn potions and Snape won't teach me, so I'm trying to convince a good potions master to teach me," Harry said.

"Ah, you're better off without Snivellus anyways. Do you want an adult there for the discussion? I could do something officially as your godfather!" he offered.

"That'd be great, Sirius, but I think you should put some proper clothes on first," Harry told him. Sirius looked down before he realized he was still in his bathrobe. With an aloof grin on his face, Sirius sauntered back to his room while Harry pointed out the room where they'd be meeting Fleming.

Exactly when the clock struck nine, Fleming walked in through the door. "It's good to know there are others who appreciate punctuality," he said, eyeing Harry, Hermione, and Sirius.

Harry stood up to shake his hand and introduce everyone to Fleming. "I'm Harry Potter. This is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger, and my godfather, Sirius Black."

"Floyd Fleming. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? Time is money. I suppose my reputation led you to seek me as a tutor, even though I don't normally teach as a profession. You've offered some extremely rare ingredients for me in exchange. Can you show me proof?"

Harry pulled out the leather bag and laid it out on the table. "I hope you can tell what this is," he said, smiling. The look on Fleming's eyes told Harry all he needed to know, but he watched in silence as Fleming pulled a few tools from his bag, casting a few spells for further analysis.

"A basilisk fang… with trace amounts of venom still on it," he breathed out. "This is indeed an ingredient I have difficulty acquiring."

"That's… that's seriously a basilisk fang, Harry?" Sirius asked, shocked. "You really need to tell me more about what you're getting up to at school these days."

"So I suppose you're satisfied with the sample, then? There's an entire basilisk's worth of material, of course, if you'll agree to tutor Hermione and me," Harry said, motioning to Sirius to calm down.

"Wait, Harry. You really mean the whole basilisk?" Sirius interrupted before Fleming could respond. When Harry nodded in response, Sirius turned to the potions master. "There's nowhere else in the world you could get these kinds of ingredients. I think that they deserve to become apprentices."

Harry leaned over and whispered, "What's the difference, actually?"

"Tutors really only have to teach the school curriculums or whatever is required. An apprentice gets to learn above and beyond that, including the potion master's unique brews," he answered. "In the old days, apprentices would generally inherit the businesses as well, but then somebody invented franchising…"

"Quite correct, Mr. Black, but there are two problems with your proposal. First, I already have two apprentices studying under me, and I have no time to oversee two more. Secondly, payment is not my primary concern when taking apprentices. Skill is."

"How about a compromise?" Hermione asked. "We'd definitely like to learn more about potions than the standard Hogwarts curriculum. Could you just teach us a few of your specialties?"

"No, that I simply something I can't do. My recipes are not to be tossed back and forth with abandon, and all my past apprentices have sworn this knowledge to secrecy and only used with my personal approval, at least until I designate an heir to my businesses. How about this? I will tutor you beyond your NEWT levels, but only in generalized techniques; enough to leave you only a few steps away from becoming potion masters yourselves. If you have proven your ability, and my current apprentices have mastered the arts themselves, I will complete your education by swearing the two of you as my next apprentices in line. All this is conditional on harvesting the basilisk you claim to have, of course. Does that sound fair?"

Harry, Hermione, and Sirius huddled together in a group discussion before finally agreeing. Over two years' worth of material was more than enough for them to learn, and they had no idea if Mr. Fleming's potions would be of any use to their particular mission, in any case. General potions expertise would be far more helpful, as well as medical potions if they could negotiate it out of him. "Alright, it's agreed. There are a few particular potions we want to learn, but we can discuss those later. Naturally… if we're trading in… er… basilisk parts, you don't want a written contract lying around, do you?"

"I see you're a little more well-versed in the ways of the world than the average teenager, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled. "This means I also won't be showing you the basilisk itself, of course. If everybody knew how to access it, it wouldn't be much use for bartering, would it?"

"Do you know how to properly harvest the head crest, Mr. Potter?" Harry shook his head. "Then proper dissection technique, harvesting, preservation, and handling of ingredients will be an excellent place to begin our lessons. This fang is worth enough to cover the first several lessons, and I expect the crest to be delivered more meticulously than in a simple leather bag," he said disapprovingly, but not without some hope in his voice.

"Will meeting twice a week suffice? Are you willing to skive off Potions and sneak out to learn potions properly, Hermione?"

"There's no need to sneak out, Harry. Personal tutors are allowed into Hogwarts, and there's plenty of empty classrooms within the castle. It's standard practice, mostly with Slytherin and Ravenclaw families. It's all documented in Hogwarts: A History."

"Of course it is," Harry said. "Well then, are those times convenient for you? First class on Monday, and just before lunch on Thursdays."

"Monday? Then we begin tomorrow." Fleming agreed, and they all shook hands on the deal. Just before they left, though, Fleming asked Sirius, "You said your name was Sirius Black… as in the British noble family of Black?"

"Yes, in fact, I'm the head of house. Why do you ask?"

"A few years ago… well, more than a few, I have to admit, I attempted to establish a brewery and apothecary here in Britain, but the market was too tightly controlled by several families…"

"The Blacks being one of them, I presume."

"Yes. Tell me, does the Black family still control the Philalethes Concoctions Company? I hear they've made no interesting developments since the discovery of Veritaserum. If I were to take the reins of the company, I can promise it would be quite profitable for the both of us…"

"I'll be honest, I only recently came into my inheritance of the family, and I haven't had time to go over my family holdings… My father and I never really got along, you see, so it was a surprise that I inherited anything at all. I'll send you a letter next week, how about that? Harry and I have the rest of the afternoon for some quality godfather-godson bonding, so if you'll excuse us…"

* * *

After a hearty breakfast, they met with Ron in the Shrieking Shack and Sirius got ready to give his first apparition lesson to the trio. "I still can't believe you want to learn apparition when you're still fourteen. I can't believe I'm the one teaching you! Okay, let's see if I remember…"

"Wait, you don't remember how to apparate?"

"Ah, don't worry, it's like riding a broom. You do it a few times and you never really forget," he told them. "Just let me check."

"Wait, Sirius… how long has it been since you last apparated? Didn't you apparate to get here?"

"Flooed to the Three Broomsticks. And an international portkey to the ministry from France. I spent a lot of time running around as a dog when I was in France…"

"I think we should pick up some dittany before we begin, just in case," Hermione suggested. Fifteen minutes later after a trip to the local apothecary, they were ready to start again.

"Okay, so let's begin with a demonstration," Sirius said. "I'll just apparate to the other side of the room." Harry and Hermione held their breaths as Sirius disapparated with a pop. Ron didn't seem surprised, however, since his parents had done it plenty of times with him. The fact that Sirius didn't reappear on the other side of the room caused them to panic, until they heard some thumping from upstairs.

"It's okay! I'm fine! I just didn't picture the house properly, that's all!" Sirius said as he stepped back into the room. "I think this is a good time to go over the 3 D's of apparition, the first of which is Destination. You really have to know where you're going before you apparate. That also means you might accidentally apparate into a place you're more familiar with than the place you actually want to go, but you'll get over that with practice. The process is pretty easy- just picture the location in your mind. I want all of you to practice that- the more you can picture accurately, the better."

For the next few hours, they didn't end up staying in the Shrieking Shack, since they weren't actually apparating. Instead, Sirius told them to describe, in detail, various places around Hogsmeade like Zonko's, Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes, the path that led from town to Hogwarts, and other locations they _should_ have been familiar with. They quickly learned from this exercise how little attention they truly paid to the details of the places they visited so often. After getting tired of walking Ron asked, "So, how soon until we can actually start apparating?"

"Patience, patience," Sirius said. "I haven't even finished going over the theory yet! There's still more to do next week, but I'm famished. Let's call it a day and have a late lunch." _Not to mention I need some more practice before I teach any more_, he thought.

"What are the other D's of apparition?" Harry asked. "You never finished explaining."

"Err… Discomfort and Don't splinch yourself."

"That doesn't sound right…" Hermione said. "Wasn't it supposed to be Determination and Deliberation?"

"You can go with that, if it works for you. I never bothered looking up what Deliberation meant but I still got it. As long as you know what you're doing, where you're going, and what to expect, it's a piece of cake. Next week, I'll take you all on a side-along so you know what it feels like. Took me ages to get used to the feeling."

"I'll say… I never liked apparition with my dad until I was eight," Ron informed them. "I still don't like it, but if I get to do it myself that's a whole different story."

"And not splinching yourself is really the key to apparition. You could end up three towns over in the wrong direction, but if you didn't splinch yourself, you can always try again."

"But isn't Determination what keeps people from splinching themselves?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe if you're determined enough to ignore that squeezing feeling. I'm just telling you what works for me."

As Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked back to the inn for their meal, Sirius kept popping ahead, apparating several steps at a time. It annoyed the teens a little, much to Sirius's delight, knowing that even after they learned to apparate they'd never be able to use it in public. "I wish he'd stop doing that. Seriously, he's less mature than we are," Hermione huffed.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione. If I could apparate, I wouldn't be bothering with waiting for those pesky stairs at Hogwarts to line up properly all the time," Ron said.

"You can't apparate in Hogwarts! How many times have I told you, it's in…"

"Hogwarts: A History, we know," Harry cut in. "But at least we won't have to take an hour-long walk from the gates to get to Hogsmeade."

"We still can't do that if we're going to be seen," Hermione said. "It's illegal! We'll get in trouble, and not just with the professors."

"Well, we can do it from one of the underground passages to the Shrieking Shack. Nobody will see us. We just need to figure out where the wards end underground so we can apparate safely."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Sirius said suddenly from behind, startling all three of them. "I wouldn't have had to waste so much time dragging Wormtail over to the shack back in June…"

"You mean dragging me," Ron grumbled.

"Hey, I said I was sorry. I tried not to hurt you too badly," Sirius barked out humorously. "At least you were gripping Wormtail so hard that he couldn't escape if he tried, so thanks for that. Oh, and I'll get you that owl by next week."

The prospect of finally receiving his own owl brightened Ron up immensely, but Sirius's attention was quickly diverted to Hermione. "So it's your birthday tomorrow, right? I'll ask Rosmerta to whip up a cake for you faster than two wags of a dog's tail."

"Oh no, that's not necessary, Sirius…" Hermione remained bashful, trying to discourage Sirius from continuing to act like a hyperactive teenager. Then again, he had good reason to celebrate.

"Nonsense! You're Harry's friend, and any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine! Now, do you like chocolate?"

Harry was smirking behind Sirius, silently mouthing, "Don't fight it." Ron was practically salivating at the thought of chocolate cake.

Hermione sighed. "Alright, but just the cake."

"What do you mean just the cake? There's the rest of the meal…"

"Which I'll cover," Harry said. "I have to do something for her today, too."

"I thought you didn't have any money left?" Ron gave Harry a questioning look.

"I only have pocket change left. I can buy my girlfriend a nice meal, at least." As they stepped into the dining section of the inn, Harry led the group towards one of the more secluded tables.

"You have no money left, Harry? How did you manage that?" Making sure there was nobody around, Harry explained his financial situation in more detail with Sirius, along with the problem of the horcruxes. There were still several more to go, and Harry couldn't afford more cursebreakers to get at them. After a long-winded explanation, Sirius responded with only a puzzled look and a simple question. "You mean Dumbledore _wasn't_ the one who got me freed?"

"What? No, he had no idea until Pettigrew was taken to court. He was surprised that I was there. Did he actually take the credit for that?"

Sirius thought for a while, but ended up answering, "I guess not… he only implied it. After my trial he said something like, 'I only wished that I could have given you your freedom earlier,' as I left."

"Bill was the one who did most of the work. He helped scout out Voldemort's hideout, contact Kroyer's company for other cursebreakers and the hitwizards," Harry explained.

"Then I really have to give your brother more credit, Ron. So Dumbledore didn't actually do anything at all other than his job as the Chief Warlock?"

"According to Malfoy, he's not even doing that job properly," Hermione said. "I suppose you haven't been keeping up with the news since your release?"

"I guess I should, since it was a newspaper that motivated me to break out of prison," Sirius said. "But enough about that! Here comes the cake!"

Serious discussions were put aside as Madam Rosemerta presented them with a small chocolate cake with a single candle in the center. After a cheerful song of "Happy Birthday," Hermione blew a small puff to extinguish the candle. The flame kept burning, so she blew harder, which only turned the flame green. Another long breath caused the candle to emit blue sparks. Naturally, a _finite_ charm only caused the candle to change colour as well. "Alright, Sirius, what's the trick?"

"Say your birthday wish out loud before you blow it," he said.

"No! That ruins the whole point of the wish!"

"Come on, just tell us. Oh, it must be something dirty, right? _Right?_" Sirius and Ron both snickered, but Hermione caught a glint of hopefulness in Harry's expression.

"Oh, you're not getting away with that so easily," she warned Harry. "I wish that Harry would give me a neck rub every night before bed. Forever." She then quickly blew out the candle.

"Does that candle actually enforce wishes?" Harry asked.

"Not at all." They all had a good laugh and Harry promised to talk Hermione down from forever to one week as they ate their dessert before ordering their meal proper. The rest of the day was a much more private celebration than Hermione's last fifteenth birthday. Harry gave her the repaired, and charmed, teddy bear while Ron picked up a box of Honeyduke's finest choclates as they left Hogsmeade. As curfew sounded, Sirius was reluctant to leave, as he would be returning home to a screaming portrait, a disrespectful house-elf, and a lot of unhappy childhood memories. He inadvertently gave them one last laugh when he attempted to apparate from the main doors of Hogwarts, dazing himself when he bounced off the anti-apparition wards. They finally parted ways as Filch came to lock up and give detention to the stragglers.

* * *

"Now, before we begin, can you tell me what is the first step in brewing any potion?"

Harry and Hermione had an entire classroom to themselves with Mr. Fleming, and looked at each other with amused smirks. In perfect unison, they replied, "Tie up loose robes and hair," and proceeded to do just that, quickly working their way into Fleming's good books. The lesson was much like their first class lesson with Fleming last time around, with the focus on safety and handling of potion tools and ingredients, but in much more detail, since there were only two of them to teach. Of course, since he was being paid in basilisk parts, they went over the easiest of harvesting techniques- the external organs and structures (especially the basilisk crest) took up a large portion of the first lesson. Their skill with the basics definitely impressed him.

"Well, I'm glad that Potion education in Britain hasn't completely neglected the focus on safety as I've been led to believe," Fleming stated as the lesson wrapped up.

"Actually, we learned most of that from studying on our own. The Hogwarts Potions professor never taught us that," Harry said, hoping to once again to rid Hogwarts of the greasy nuisance.

"Is that so? How does he manage to teach the class without any permanent injuries, I wonder? He must be watching the class like a hawk, but prevention is always easier and more effective than protection, as they say."

"Well, Madam Pomfrey is a very good healer," Harry said.

"Yeah, she fixes Neville right up every time he flubs a potion. How many times has he been to the infirmary?" Hermione bounced Fleming's attention back to Harry, catching the hint.

"This year? Twice, I think, so I guess he's getting better. Last year was still once a week, wasn't it?"

Fleming made a mental note to check with the witch in the infirmary before he left the castle. Perhaps he would even stay until lunch to observe a potions class himself to see if his two pupils were exaggerating. If they weren't, that would be very concerning for his future plans. Even if he could strike a deal with Mr. Black in setting up a new brewery business, it would all be moot if he couldn't find any decent brewers to run it. If he had to train and screen all the employees himself, he'd waste so much time he could simply make better profits staying in his core markets on continental Europe. Then again, there was something right here that could help ease the transition and prepare the British market quickly…

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I have an extra task for you so long as I will be tutoring the two you. Consider it… homework." Hermione perked up at the idea- any homework from Fleming would be more productive than Snape's, at least. Harry just assumed Fleming wanted him to harvest some more of the basilisk. Neither of them were prepared for his assignment. "I would like the two of you to teach to the other students what the… official potions professor has been remiss in during his lessons. It could be a student association or club, voluntary for others to join, of course, but please try to teach as many as possible what I am teaching you."

"Teach? I'm not sure if I can…" He didn't think he was cut out to be a teacher- and teaching Potions, being in a position like Snape, nearly turned him off the idea completely.

"You learn the least from reading it out of a book," Fleming explained, ignoring Hermione's sour look. "While I'm impressed by how much you've remembered, you will learn much more by experiencing and practice. However, there is no better test of truly understanding your lessons than being able to pass that knowledge on to somebody else."

"Well… what can we teach?" Harry asked. "We really don't know much about potions…"

"You don't have to be as formal as a professor. Simply use what you've learned from our tutoring sessions and improve the skills of your peers. If what you say is true, then there's already plenty of room for them to improve upon," Fleming said as he was packing up. "Obviously, safety and proper equipment selection should be the focus of your first lessons. Perhaps, by the end of the month, your club can be better-equipped than your standard class. There are entire classes of potions that cannot be brewed with the basic bronze cauldron, which I will have to teach you as well."

As they bid Mr. Fleming goodbye, they prepared for their next class, Arithmancy. It would be a perfect time to start asking others to start recruiting others for a potions club. The only students who managed to pass the arithmancy OWL were the keen students who placed little value on the house rivalries.

"What should we call the club? Just the Potions Club?" Harry threw out suggestions as they worked on their arithmancy exercise.

"Or the Hogwarts Potions club… HP for short," Hermione said.

"I'm not using my own initials for a club I'm going to be leading. That just seems so… conceited. I'd never hear the end of it from Snape."

"You're right… wouldn't it be ironic if we named the club after Snape? 'The Snape club,' for everyone who didn't learn potions properly from Snape himself."

"I think that would be funny, but Snape would put an end to it as soon as he found out we were parading around his name."

Samuels, who was sitting beside them, overheard their conversation and cut in. "He can't stop you if you're using an acronym that just happens to spell out 'Snape.' And for what it's worth, I think it's a great idea, but you two need to talk more quietly while we're working," he advised.

Hermione apologized, but continued talking more quietly. "An acronym, hm? It could be something like… The Students Need A Proper Education Society."

"I… I don't think I could host that with a straight face," Harry sniggered. "Is it a bad thing that how much I love this club will depend on how much Snape hates it?"

By the end of the class, Samuels had spread the word to his fellow Ravenclaws and many of them were quite interested in the idea. With the next two classes, they could spread the word to the other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

* * *

Moody's class that day, however, left them no room to pass any notes during the lesson. He demanded their full attention, and had his full attention on Harry, as he was kicking off with his favourite toping in all of Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"The Unforgivables! There are only three spells that are classified as Unforgivable, and every one of them will earn you a life sentence in Azkaban for its use. Are any of you aware of what they are?"

"The Cruciatus curse?" came from one of the Hufflepuff girls.

"Ah, one of the most common examples I'd seen in my years as an auror. Known to cause the greatest amount of pain that your mind is even capable of comprehending, but without any physical damage to your body, interestingly enough. Next? How about you, Potter?"

"The Imperius, Harry answered, keeping his eyes locked on Moody. Evidently, Moody didn't trust students enough to lower his mental shields in the classroom, but the fact that Moody was capable of keeping his occlumency going was evidence enough that he wasn't under an imperius this time.

"Correct, Mr. Potter. The Imperius is, interestingly enough, the only Unforgivable curse that can be resisted. Should you fail to resist, you will fall under the complete control of the caster… although I was expecting you to name the curse you're famous for surviving."

"Well, that day wasn't exactly the high point in my life."

"When an unforgivable is cast, it's not going to be a good day for anybody," Moody growled. "Now what's the last one?"

"The Killing Curse?" The last answer was given by Lee Jordan.

"And the Killing Curse… unblockable and guaranteed to rip the soul right out of your body the moment it lands. It's also quite curious that it leaves not a single mark on the body as it does this, it's much like the Cruciatus. Each one of these is remarkably difficult to cast, and very few wizards have ever been able to perform them non-verbally. That means hearing the incantation and the colour of the spell will be your only warnings. Can anyone tell me the colour and incantation of the Killing curse?"

"It's green… and the incantation is _Av… Avada.._" Alicia clearly knew the answer but was reluctant to actually speak the incantation aloud.

"Great Gwiddion's gonads, you're not going to cast the spell accidentally just by saying it out loud. The spell is _AVADA KEDAVRA!_" he shouted, shocking the entire class to attention. "And it looks something like this," he added, shooting a harmless jet of bright green light that splattered harmlessly on the rear wall of the classroom. Several students fell out of their seats as it rushed by them. Nobody dared to laugh, not even the twins, while Moody watched impatiently as they climbed back into their seats. "Would anybody like another demonstration? No? Then I expect you to be able to tell the difference between that and the Slug Vomit hex next class. Now, the Cruciatus."

Harry decided to answer this one, having experienced it himself. "The incantation is _Crucio_ and the spell is a very dark orange; almost brown," he answered.

Moody was once again studying him silently, causing the rest of the class to turn in their seats to stare at Harry as well. "That's somewhat correct, Potter. The spell is normally a dull orange; it turns darker depending on the amount of malice the caster is feeling towards his target," he said. "It would take an extreme amount of hatred from an especially psychopathic mind to cause the spell to be nearly brown in colour. It usually looks something like this." He cast another basic light spell that was a much brighter orange than the spell Voldemort used to torture Harry.

_Oh nuts, I didn't know that, _Harry thought. _Just my luck to accidentally look more suspicious. Maybe I can say Quirrel cast the spell that way in first year as an excuse…_

"Lastly, there is the Imperius curse. The incantation is _Imperio _and there is no visible spell bolt, although it does that they get extremely close to you. But since it is the only Unforgivable that can be resisted, we can practice. I'll cast a confounding and a cheering charm on you at the same time- that will mimic the experience of the Imperius. Try not to do anything _too _ridiculous."

He went around the class, casting the pair of spells on the students, who resisted the spells with varying levels of success. Some of them managed to resist completely, while others gleefully take Moody's suggestions to walk into a wall or play hopscotch. Harry and Hermione both shrugged it off as if it were nothing, although Harry did deliberately relax his occlumency so he could get a better feel for the effects. After his turn, he kept an eye on Cedric, who had a little trouble but ultimately was focused enough to throw it off. As Moody finished with the rest of the students, the twins decided to get in on the action, specifically targeting the students who weren't capable of resisting the spells. Moody, of course, didn't stand for the tomfoolery at all. Without even turning around (possibly using his artificial eye to aim), he hit both Fred and George with more powerful charms than they did for practice, leaving the two acting only slightly sillier than they normally did.

"Why couldn't he have just cast the Imperius itself instead of doing it this way?" Marius Arviragus, one of the Hufflepuff boys, asked his friends. "I mean, as long as he doesn't actually make us do something dangerous, it's alright, innit?"

"Are you daft?" Moody whirled around angrily. "It's an Unforgivable. An instant life-sentence in Azkaban, maybe even a dementor's kiss if anyone is proven to have cast any one of these spells!"

"Yeah, but if it's just for teaching…"

Moody calmed down slightly but still gave the student a patronizing look. "And it's still one year, at minimum, for an attempt. Can anyone tell me _why_ these spells were classified as Unforgivable in the first place? Anyone?"

The entire class was silent until Alicia ventured a guess. "You end up in Azkaban for doing them even once?"

"Wrong. They carry a life sentence because they are Unforgivable, not the other way around," Moody said.

"Well… they're… used to hurt people?" another Hufflepuff tried.

"In nearly all cases, yes, but as Mr. Arviragus suggested, the Imperius wouldn't be so bad, but the problem is it happens to have an interesting side effect…"

"Then is it because they're the most destructive spells?"

"Hah! Not by a long shot," Moody laughed. "Although you may be on the right track…"

"But the killing curse… it kills people!" Jennifer protested.

"Miss Jones, there are _plenty_ of spells that I can shoot from the tip of this wand that can kill you," Moody said, approaching the girl menacingly. "In fact, I don't even need to cast a spell at all," he added, jabbing his wand dangerously close to the girl's eyeball.

"I- I get your point, sir. _Pleasedonthurtme._"

"It seems that none of you are even _close_ to the answer. What have your previous Defense teachers been teaching you? How to comb your hair?" A few students restrained their laughter as they recalled that Lockhart had spent a great deal of time preening himself. "The Unforgivables are called that, quite simply, because they are _unforgivable_. They cause irreversible damage that cannot be replicated other than by very dark rituals…"

"But sir, didn't you just say that…"

"…to the _caster_. They are still being studied by the Unspeakables at the Ministry, but it is sufficient to say that all three of these spells corrupt the soul," Moody informed them. "The Killing curse is the oldest, and the most well-understood. It tears off a piece of the user's own soul and uses it to strike at the target's soul directly. Because of this, no other magic or physical object can block the spell. It's similar to ripping off your own leg just to use it to hit someone over the head. The other two are not as well-understood, but sufficed to say, if any other spell is discovered that corrupts a person's soul upon casting, it will also be classified as Unforgivable and also carry a life sentence in Azkaban."

"If it's so horrible, why would anyone use it?" Hermione asked. This kind of information wasn't available in any book she had access to.

"Because psychopaths aren't reasonable," Moody said, tapping his cane to his temples. "I've heard some criminal organizations use the spells as a rite of passage, others because they think they're a sign of magical strength. For you, this means one thing only- if anyone is even capable of casting the spells, they are a menace to society. The Killing and Cruciatus curses can be dodged. The Imperius can be resisted. The _greatest_ danger to you is not from the spell itself, but from the person who cast it."

Harry recalled his visions of Voldemort, who seemed speak the Unforgivable incantations as if they were prepositions. Obviously, by creating horcruxes, he had no problems mutilating his own soul. Was it any surprise that he had no issue with corrupting it further? As the day came to a close, Harry couldn't help but wonder how Voldemort could have grown up from an innocent child to the man he was today.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I just found it odd that J.K. Rowling says the Unforgivables are an instant life sentence in Azkaban, and Draco uses them in book 6- this is after everyone knows Voldemort's back and the ministry should be hard at work stamping dark wizards. He gets no punishment whatsoever.

- One thing that a lot of people gloss over is the fact that in the Harry Potter world, souls are real things. As in visible, detectable, and manipulable things. Dementors suck out souls. Ghosts and spirits can remain after a person's body dies. A horcrux splits and encapsulates a soul fragment into an object (even if it's not common knowledge, _some_ wizard must have guessed it was possible and tried it out). What does this do to religion? Or belief in the afterlife? Did Dumbledore actually _know_ that death was "just the next great adventure" or was that just a belief based on faith? Hmm...


	50. Welcomes

**Author's Notes: **JKR seems to be cooking up something Pottery...

- All work and no play makes willy a dull boy

* * *

**Chapter 50: Welcomes**

"Not a bad turnout," Harry said. The first meeting of SNAPE society had a more impressive turnout than he'd originally hoped for. Luckily, the word had spread to the second-year students, most of whom had remembered their first year's experience with the man.

"Should we be happy that there aren't any Slytherins here?" Hermione commented on the lack of green in the classroom. "Either nobody wanted to tell them, or none of them think it's worth coming."

"Their loss," Harry said. "I'm not going to recruit them myself, but I won't turn away Slytherin who actually wants to learn." He held up his wand and cast a noisemaker spell. The loud bang turned everyone's eyes on him immediately. "Welcome to the first meeting of the Students Needing A Proper Education Society," he announced.

"I thought this was the Students Need A _Potions_ Education Club," someone shouted from the crowd.

"Wasn't it the Snape's Not A Passable Educator?"

"SNAPE stood for something? I thought this was just the Snape Sucks Society!"

Once again, the rumours had spread like wildfire but they'd also gone out of control like one as well. With another loud bang, he quieted everyone down and explained. "Look, the name's not really important. We called it the SNAPE society because Snape is such a piss-poor potions professor that I felt I had to get my own tutor…"

"I heard it was because you did badly in your Potions OWL!" someone heckled from the back.

"He's fourth year, and he still passed his OWL!" a sixth-year said in Harry's defense. "I'd like to see you do better… although that begs the question, Harry, what are you planning to teach us NEWT students?"

"Well, I've learned more in one lesson from my tutor than a year with Snape, and there's things he's teaching that aren't on the standard Potions curriculum, so I think everyone can benefit from it. Otherwise, we can all help each other, yeah?" Harry answered.

"Can we practice DADA here, too? I'm not sure how good Moody will be, but four of the last five DADA teachers have been bollocks," one of the sixth-year Ravenclaws pointed out.

"Well, I'm only getting tutoring for potions, so someone else would have to lead those classes…"

"And what about Care of Magical Creatures?" another student added.

"Hey! Hagrid's not a bad teacher! He really knows his stuff!" The fourth-year Gryffindors who had witnessed Malfoy's near-mauling last year were the first to defend the groundskeeper.

"Yeah, but he picks the worst animals! I bet he'd make us pet a dragon if he had one in his hut."

"_I'd_ like to pet a real dragon," declared a second-year Gryffindor boy.

"Well, _I'd_ actually like to learn about a creature that's rated less than XXX on the ministry's danger classification. Like a puffskein. They're cute!"

"You mean boring! _I_ could take care of those things in my sleep!"

"Why don't you teach, if you're so good at it?"

"Maybe I will!"

Harry never expected things to go smoothly, but he didn't envision the very first meeting devolving into a bickering match. "Uh, everybody, can we just do potions today? We can figure out DADA and Creatures on other days." He certainly didn't mind learning about the other subjects, but he wanted to set the tone and pace on the first day with a proper lesson.

Eventually they got the ball rolling, and even the upper-year students were impressed with Harry and Hermione's first lesson. A few of them had already figured that they should use bubble-head charms on their own, for instance, but few realized it was standard practice in continental Europe. Although it felt strange to try to teach students who were older than him, Harry realized that despite his three years at Hogwarts, he had only met a very small fraction of the school population. Many of the other students were more willing to listen to his instructions (compared to their professors' or Hermione's) simply because he was still the Boy-Who-Lived to them.

By the following week, the membership of their informal club had swelled to double its original size. When it was announced that the other schools of the Triwizard Tournament would be arriving soon and all the students had cleanup duty, a few motivated Hufflepuffs decided to take the lead for one of the club meetings to teach everyone some handy household charms. As far as Harry could tell, this one little difference made the work of beautifying the old castle go by twice as fast with half the effort as last time around- though the other students didn't have anything to compare it to, so they still complained about the extra work unloaded on to them.

* * *

The enormous carriage of Beauxbatons and the fearsome ship of Durmstrang arrived in a timely manner on a relatively clear day. The French students arrived first, to be greeted by Professor McGonnagall.

"Ah, 'as my dear Dumbly-dorr finally retired?" Madam Maxime asked as she shook the deputy headmistress's hand.

"No, he is simply far too busy with some… administrative work in the Ministry. I will be performing the duties regarding the Triwizard Tournament," McGonagall answered.

The half-giant witch huffed indignantly. "Ze nerve! 'e wins ze petition to 'ost ze Tournamnet yet 'e does not even welcome 'is guests to 'is castle!" She turned and explained the situation to her students, who marched into the castle without giving the Hogwarts students a second glance. It didn't stop the boys from ogling Fleur as she walked by, however.

While the Durmstrang students marched up from the lake, Harry noticed someone was missing from the group. "Where's Viktor?" he asked.

"Viktor? Viktor who?" Ron replied.

"Viktor Krum, of course. You know, kind of a famous seeker? Durmstrang student?" Harry said, as if it were common knowledge.

"Oh, come on… you're joking, right? He's a professional Quidditch player! One of the best! And the youngest, but he can't still be a student…"

One of the biggest Durmstrang students, who had stopped in front of them while Karkaroff talked to McGonagall, overheard their conversation. "He is no longer a student," he explained. "Took up Quidditch permanently after his World Cup win."

Harry tilted his head up at the boy standing in front of him, who was well over six feet tall. His imposing height and huge frame gave Harry the impression that he was a cross between a giraffe and a rhinoceros. Another way to describe him was a more intelligent version of Marcus Flint. "So he just… dropped school? I, uh… heard he was going to compete in the Triwizard…"

"So he really _is_ a student at Durmstrang?" Ron cut in incredulously.

"No longer. We all thought he would be champion for Durmstrang, but two hundred thousand Dramaks each year makes one thousand Galleons a waste of time. I am not complaining. Less competition for me!" He grinned and thumped his chest proudly.

"Err, isn't there only one champion per school for the tournament? I mean, you'd still have to face off against our champion and Beauxbaton's…" Hermione tried to correct him.

"Hah! The school of manners and the school of money against the school of power? The only competition against Durmstrang is Durmstrang. If I am chosen, I already win," he boasted cockily. Several Hogwarts students overheard him and began shouting angrily. Harry, who had experienced the "Durmstrang strength" first hand, didn't want to escalate the situation to a real fight and tried to calm his classmates down- especially Ron. The Durmstrang students jeered at them, all of them looking confident and eager to prove their strength. However, Karkaroff immediately called them to attention when he saw things were getting out of hand, and with military precision they stopped and faced their headmaster. They left the Hogwarts students fuming as they proceeded into the castle without a second glance.

Inside the Great Hall, the usual announcements for the Triwizard were made and the tournament officials were introduced. Apart from Dumbledore and Krum, it seemed that somebody else was missing today. Bartemius Crouch Sr.'s position was filled by someone who obviously had very little experience with the International Cooperation position. His French and Bulgarian counterparts were as displeased with the situation as Maxime and Karkaroff were with Dumbledore's absence.

After the announcements and the feast, it came time for the students to mingle, but that didn't play out the same way as last time either. For one thing, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students seemed much friendlier with each other this time around and very few Hogwarts students could get a word in edgewise with the foreign students. Then again, it could have been attributed to the lack of international celebrities who could compete in the tournament. Hufflepuffs and Slytherins alike were trying, of course, but the atmosphere was simply colder than before. There certainly wasn't any Draco Malfoy trying to cozy up to Durmstrang students- in fact, there was no Draco at all. Harry only realized then that his blond Slytherin friend wasn't at the feast, but his two goons were. He decided to investigate further, motioning to Hermione and Ron for backup.

"Hello, Crabbe. Goyle. Isn't there a little pureblooded snake you two should be guarding right now?"

They only grunted menacingly and cracked their knuckles in reply. Had this been the old Harry, he would have backed off, but his opinion of what constituted a tough opponent had changed dramatically after having survived the likes of Viktor Krum and Alastor Moody.

"He's gone home. A temporary suspension," explained Blaise Zabini. "Quite frankly, I hope it becomes permanent."

"Hey! Why you telling him?" Crabbe shouted angrily.

"Yeah! Don't you know what he's gunna do when he finds out?" Goyle added.

"Of course. He'll do nothing," Blaise said condescendingly. "He used to run to his daddy all the time. Rumour has it that Daddy Malfoy is too busy to save him this time. It's about time that dolt stopped giving Slytherin a bad name. Can't even talk to a girl outside of Slytherin without someone jumping to her 'rescue.' Thank goodness there are other schools here this year," he said, eyeing some of the girls from Beauxbatons.

_What could he have possibly done?_ Harry wondered. _Last time he broke his wand and I "rescued" him from the Forbidden Forest, and his father still came to his rescue. How could he screw up so much by himself? What does it have to do with the Room of Requirement? _His thoughts were interrupted by Ron's response to Blaise.

"A bad name? All you snakes are just as bad as the next," Ron declared.

"I assure you, that idiot Malfoy was far from cunning. The only reason he was in Slytherin at all must have been his family tradition," Blaise replied calmly. "In fact, he's so arrogant and dimwitted he should be in Gryffindor." Without giving the trio any time to retort, he turned and glided across the floor to charm his way into the Beauxbatons crowd. They were left staring at Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing around looking more dumbfounded than usual.

"So what _is_ going on with Malfoy and his father?" Harry tried asking.

"None o' your business, Potter! Why don't you go back to your Gryffindor table, huh?" At this point, Goyle looked like he was ready to shove Harry to the ground, but was stopped by a group of Durmstrang students who had crowded around.

"So, Hogwarts settles fights with fists, eh? That is what happens when nobody can teach magic!" The Durmstrang students laughed at Goyle, who quickly backed off in embarrassment.

The Hogwarts populace, however, weren't going to take that statement lying down. Immediately the feast lost all sense of welcome and the students faced off against each other. Even the house ghosts stopped floating around and "stood" by the students. Had the enchanted ceiling been able to understand the mood, it would have displayed dark rainclouds rolling in. The Durmstrang students were strutting confidently, the Hogwarts students were glaring angrily, and the Beauxbatons students (and a few of the wiser students) were watching the whole situation from the sides of the Great Hall with tense amusement.

Before anything could happen, the professors quickly separated all the students and sent them back to their respective dormitories. With hours to go before curfew should have started and the Goblet of Fire only just revealed moments ago, it was not the ideal revival of the Triwizard Tournament that the organizers had been hoping for.

* * *

Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts in the middle of the week, looking especially tired. The newspapers that were dropped in front of them that morning explained what he'd been doing this whole time.

_**Injustice Evident In Inquest of Incarcerated Death Eaters!**_

_By Gwendolyn Farewither_

_With the release of Sirius Black, it had come to light that the man never received a trial before being thrown in Azkaban. Worried that this judicial irresponsibility could lead to more unjustified incarcerations, Lucius Malfoy called for a review of all legal proceedings in the year following He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's downfall._

_A thorough examination of records by the current head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, has led to the discovery that several of those who were accused of being Death Eaters were not given trials after the end of the last wizarding war. As a result, Bartemius Crouch, Albus Dumbledore, and Millicent Bagnold have been called in for questioning. Over a dozen prisoners await trial after the investigation._

_Dumbledore's objectivity was called into question when it was clear that nearly every one of the prisoners who had not received a trial hailed from families that were friends of the Black family or were politically aligned with them. However, it was apparent that he had not presided over many of the cases and played little part in the decision to imprison the suspects indefinitely._

_Crouch is unlikely to escape the inquest unscathed, however. The former DMLE chief clearly overstepped his bounds, as there were no records that former Minister Bagnold passed any decree or law that allowed the DMLE head to convict without trial. Some suspect that he was being overzealous to make up for the fact that his own son was convicted as a supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

"So, what do you think, Sirius?" Harry asked. He and Hermione had used one of their free periods to sneak out of the castle.

"What do I think? I don't know what to think!" Sirius dropped the paper to the floor of the Shrieking Shack and paced back and forth, running his hands through his long, shaggy hair. "You know, as much as I hate the Malfoys, Lucius makes a good point. Two weeks ago I was happy just to be out of prison I couldn't care less, but... he let it happen. He didn't even look into it afterwards!"

"You did say some pretty stupid things when you were arrested, Sirius," Hermione reminded him. "But you can see why we don't trust Dumbledore? Anyways, we have a few secrets we want to share."

"Harry, I kept the Marauders' animagi secret from him for the last few years of school. What do you want to tell me? I promise, I'll keep your secrets as well as I would have kept your parents'."

As much as Harry wanted Sirius to know about time travel, he knew he had to start small. "We're animagi, too! We've finished our transformations." he said cheerfully.

"Really? Both of you? Wait… I only sent you that animagus handbook for your birthday, Harry. How did you…"

"Hermione's a genius and I spent the summer with her." Harry had been finding that was quickly becoming his most convenient excuse.

Sirius just looked at Hermione and shrugged. "Huh. Maybe I should have tried inviting Remus to stay over when I was young… ah, my mother would have tossed all the silverware the moment he knocked on the door anyway. So what are the two of you?"

"I'm an osprey."

"And I'm an owl."

"What about your other friend, Ron?"

"He… uh… hasn't started on it yet. And he doesn't know we're animagi."

"Harry… you should tell him. You know, when James and I got our forms, we didn't keep it a secret from Peter… well, maybe we should have… but that's not the point. The point is we were friends at the time, and friends should help each other succeed! Why don't we turn our apparition lessons into apparition and animagus lessons?"

"I… but… well, you make a good point, Sirius." As much as Harry felt betrayed by Ron last time, he couldn't hold anything against the boy for what he hadn't done yet.

"Good friends are hard to find, Harry. Remember that. Now, we have to pick your names, and there's a special process you have to go through…"

"Can Hermione go first?" Harry suggested. Hermione gave him a look that quite clearly said she wasn't going to be named Stiltwit again.

"Yeah, why not? Okay, first, you have to transform…" Harry made "Stiltwit" his first suggestion, earning him a hard peck on his ankles. She immediately changed back when Sirius suggested they shorten it to "Stilts," since she figured it could have been much worse.

"Spoilsport," joked Harry as he transformed for his turn to receive a name.

"Hm. He looks like a pretty normal bird. A big bird, but… er… normal," Sirius commented. "Sorry, I don't know much about birds."

"I was thinking of calling him Bandito or something like that. On account of the osprey's black band around the eyes."

"Black band? The whole top half of his head's black," Sirius pointed out.

"That's just Harry," she said. "And he's obviously not a normal osprey."

"Well, maybe we can call him Blacktop? Blackhead?" Hermione had trouble hiding her giggles at his second suggestion. Both the boys were clueless about the cosmetic term.

"Okay, okay… I won't be that mean. How about Lone Ranger?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Sirius asked. Harry objected to the name as well, namely, the 'lone' part of it, and showed it by hopping up on her shoulder and pulling her hair with his beak.

"Muggle thing. He's a hero who wore a mask," Hermione sighed. "How about Zorro?"

"Is that another muggle thing?"

"Yes," Hermione sighed. "You won't like Dread Pirate Roberts either, would you?"

"I think something simple like Bandanna would be better," Sirius proposed. At that moment, they both noticed that Harry was in his human form again, and was halfway to transforming back. "Oh no, you don't," Sirius said, casting the same animagus-reversal spell he used on Pettigrew.

"Bandanna. Your Marauder name's going to be Bandanna?" Hermione said dryly. "That's even worse than Stilts."

"Wait… wait… that's not what I wanted!" Harry protested. "I was aiming for Dread Pirate… you talk too fast, Sirius!"

"Too late," Sirius said. "Your name is Bandanna. You know, something similar happened to your father, too. I think he was shooting for Commander Rack but ended up with Prongs."

"Were you the one who suggested Prongs at the last second?"

"…yes." They all had a good laugh as Sirius recounted how each one of the Marauders got their names. Remus never even knew he received one until two days after his transformation, and Pettigrew naturally wasn't very happy with his. As the conversation turned to the traitorous Marauder, Harry decided to discuss more important matters.

"Sirius… I need to ask a favour. And it has to be a secret, too."

"Sure thing, Bandy. Anything for my godson." Sirius laughed.

"I was hoping you could spot me some money. I've spent pretty much all of it on the cursebreakers and hitwizards that caught Pettigrew."

"Which got me out of Azkaban. Jeez, Harry, do you even have to ask? I consider that money I already owe you."

"I'm not asking for the money back, but I need to hire those cursebreakers again. At least two more times."

"Two more? Are there other godfathers in prison that you haven't been telling me about?" Sirius joked. "Really, though, what's going on?"

"We're trying to kill Voldemort, a little bit at a time, and I need to hire more cursebreakers," Harry said.

"V… You-Know-Who? Sheesh, Harry, you've already defeated him once, there's no need to do it again," Sirius ribbed.

"Three times," Harry corrected. "I never really did get around to telling you about my first and second year, did I? Well, in first year Voldemort possessed a teacher and I ended up stopping him; in second year Voldemort's teenage self possessed Ron's little sister and I defeated him again. I'm starting to think it _is_ my job."

"You know that this _should_ be the adults' problem, not yours."

When Sirius pointed that out, Harry started to wonder _why_ he had made it a personal mission to vanquish Voldemort. "Well, he also gives me headaches at the most inopportune moments. At least I'm able to pull information out of him and he doesn't realize it." It sounded like a weak explanation even as he told himself again, and turned to Hermione, who was in deep thought.

"Well, there's also the prophecy…" she suggested.

"Dark Lord-killer will be born at the end of July to those who defeated You-Know-Who thrice, something like that?" Sirius asked. "That jogs my memory… it's why your parents went into hiding in the first place. And you _did_ defeat him already."

"It's incomplete. There's more to it than that," Harry added. "_The Dark Lord will mark him with death, and only he can invite Death to visit the one who slays him,"_ he recited.

Hermione, at the same time, said, "_The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal… but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… _Hey, wait, Harry, why is yours different?"

"This is the one I remember Snape saying… you think he was lying about it?"

"Well, it better not be the real prophecy or else you'll _have_ to die before Voldemort does. I don't think prophecies get less ambiguous than that," Hermione said.

"Well, _'neither can live while the other survives'_ is obviously false, since we're both alive right now. That one _has_ to be false."

"It might work, depending on what your definition of 'live' is, I guess," Hermione scrunched up her face as she tried to make sense of the "old" prophecy.

"I guess that means we can argue all day about what everyone's definition of 'is' is," Sirius interrupted. "The prophecy doesn't matter in the end. The point is, Harry, do you really _want_ to do this yourself? Fighting You-Know-Who is… shall we say, a dangerous proposition. I want you to stay safe."

"We don't even have to come near him, if we do this right. I have the information on what we need to do, and this is when he's at his weakest. He's already interested in me, and he'll come hunting for me if he gains any more power even if I do nothing. I'm sure he has a personal vendetta against me anyways, so I may as well strike first."

"Now that's more like a Marauder!" Sirius shouted in triumph.

"What? Weren't you just trying to convince me _not_ to do it?"

"I wanted to make sure you wanted to do it for yourself and you had a more solid reason for doing it. Gryffindors charge ahead, Harry, and Marauders strike first. So what's your plan with the cursebreakers?"

"I think we should hit the Gaunt family home first," Harry explained. "There should be a cursed ring in there- and it has to be destroyed. As soon as possible. It's probably layered with dozens of enchantments, and the shack itself probably has booby traps everywhere. If you can, contact the Kroyer Curse Cracking Company, they're the guys who took down Riddle Manor and captured Pettigrew."

* * *

They had just enough time to give Sirius all the details for hiring the cursebreakers for the next job before they had to sneak back into Hogwarts to have lunch. When they returned, they found the twins laughing it up at the Gryffindor table with long, white beards. This time, however, Lee had a matching beard as well.

"You three tried to get your names into the cup, didn't you?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Oh no, Harry, you have, once again, underestimated us," George said with a false air of wisdom while stroking his beard.

"That's why you'll keep falling for our pranks. How are your essays looking, by the way?"

"Perfectly legible with dried, black ink," Hermione answered sweetly. Her answer didn't dampen the pranksters' mood, though.

"Well, the answer to your question, Harry, is that we didn't just _try _to put our names into the cup."

"We succeeded." The thick facial hair couldn't hide their smiles.

"If you succeeded… why do you have those beards on your face?" Harry pointed out. "You obviously got caught by the barrier around the goblet."

"That we did, Harry. That we did," George said solemnly.

"But we didn't get caught putting our names in." Once again, they started roaring at their little inside joke as everyone else wondered what they meant.

When everyone finished eating, all the fourth and sixth years headed outside together- Harry was going to Creatures class while the sixth-years were headed to the greenhouses. As they did, the group of Gryffindors crossed paths with several Durmstrang students who were doing physical exercises out on the front lawn.

"Ve haff some cheaters, it looks like," one of them said, pointing to the bearded trio.

"Hey! There's a big difference between pranking and cheating!" Lee answered defensively.

"Oh? You break rules for fun, yes? You break rule in Durmstrang, you spend de night on top of de main mast. You break rule a second time, you spend it under de keel," the Durmstrang student with the shaved head sneered at them.

"This is why you are weak. You British have no discipline. All talk about your great history, but you have nothing to show _today_," a pale-skinned student added. "Who was the last great British Wizard?"

Everyone knew that the answer was, technically, Voldemort. Surely the Durmstrang student knew as well- unless, of course, Voldemort wasn't quite as influential that far to the east as they thought he was. "Dumbledore's a great wizard, and he's our headmaster!" someone shouted.

"He is old and ineffective leader of the ICW," the pale one countered. "The eastern countries feel he has too much… idealism. Not enough action. All bark and no bite, not since Grindelwald's defeat."

"Who do you have? I've never even heard of any Bulgarian wizards!"

"Do you not follow sports? Have you not heard of Alexey Simeon, the ten-time champion of the international duelling circuit? Do you not study history? Ilya Illunova, hero of the Oceanic War?" When the name drew complete blanks from all the Hogwarts students, he threw his hands up in disgust.

"Well, we've got Harry Potter!" someone from the back shouted. Harry groaned. He hoped it wouldn't come to this.

"Who is dat? De children's story character? He is a real person? Will he come to save you now?" The bald one mocked.

"He's right here!" someone pointed out. Harry buried his face in his hands, wishing he could just disappear. He realized too late that he _could_. He drew his wand out to cast a disillusionment on himself, but the Durmstrang eyes were exactly where Gryffindor fingers were pointing.

"Ready to fight already? _Iacus!_" The boy released a stinging hex without warning, which Harry dodged easily with a twist of his shoulders.

"Ow!" The spell hit Lavender, who dropped her books. "Hey! That hurt!"

"Hurt? Is only stinging hex. Tell me, are all Englishwomen this veak? My baby sister cries less than her."

"I'm not crying!" Lavender protested. The burly Durmstrang student let fly several more stinging hexes in response, causing her to scramble out of the way. The rest of the students backed up as well, but not quite out of the path of the spells.

"Stop that!" Harry quickly moved to shield the other students and Hermione caught the hexes that were out of reach for him.

"Then let me see how Englishmen fight. So far I only see how they cheat, and how they flee," he challenged, pointing out the twins and the fourth-years in particular.

"No. There's no need for this," Harry said. "Our champions will represent the school, that's all."

"If a school only needs one good student to be called the best school, why bother teaching everyone else? Come. I want to see how others fight." He tried to provoke a fight again with a few more stinging hexes at the crowd, which Harry and Hermione shielded.

"I said stop that!" Harry finally retaliated with a disarming hex, which the other boy dodged easily, eyes gleaming. This was what he was waiting for.

A tripping hex began the duel for real, which Harry sidestepped, and a blinding curse followed right behind. Hermione kept the crowd safe, since they were lacking in proper spectator shields. There was no need to work up a sweat here- he didn't want to arrive at his next class muddy and covered in grass. Harry responded with a few more disarming hexes, trying to end the fight as quickly as possible.

The Durmstrang boy danced around the hexes, snickering. He boldly marched forward, now conjuring ropes that flew at Harry. Those were sliced and dispelled with a simple wave of Harry's arm.

The fight, compared to the ones with Moody, Krum, and even practicing with Hermione, was lame. It was the most rudimentary of duels- throw a spell, dodge a spell. He didn't know if it was the foreign student deliberately holding back (he was sure the boy was capable of more dangerous spells, like a simple stream of flame) or if he was Durmstrang's equivalent of Malfoy- overconfident and underperforming. To test it out, he lauched his next charm at the groud, turning the ground into soft dirt.

His opponent's foot sank into the soft dirt, causing him to momentarily lose his balance. Caught by surprise, he banished a clump of dirt at Harry while pulling his foot out of the ground. Harry blocked it with his arm, careful not to take his eyes off his opponent, and cast several sticking charms on the ground. The boy showed he did have some good instincts, keeping his eyes on Harry as he dispelled the sticking charms near him. When he regained his footing, and leapt over the last sticking charms between them. Harry quickly cast a heavyweight charm on the boy's robes, causing him to land short of his target and catching his feet on the sticking charm, toppling over as he hit the ground. Harry finished off the fight with an _Expelliarmus_ for good measure.

"You'd better not go around picking fights again, you hear?" Harry told him as he handed the boy his wand back.

"And vat are you going to do about it? If you haff to be a hero and protect everybody in your school, that just means your school is veak. Ha!" He snatched his wand back but made no more hostile gestures. Instead, he turned around and walked back to his friends, muttering angrily and making excuses. Obviously, the story of a Durmstrang student losing to a young Hogwarts boy would be passed around the mess deck of the Durmstrang ship that evening.

Turning back to the Hogwarts students, Harry saw all the students looking at him in awe. "Harry… that was awesome!" Ron shouted, breaking the silence. Everyone else cheered and whooped for him as well.

"I… er… it really wasn't that much, you know. Just a few sticking hexes and a disarming hex, I mean, anyone could have done that…"

"No we couldn't! Wow, the way you stood up to him, and then you made it look so _easy_ when you beat him…" gushed Parvati.

"No kidding, athough I think your duel with Moody was better," the George said.

"And thanks to Hermione, too, the way you shielded everyone before we figured we should draw our own wands," Fred added. Hermione smiled at his gratitude.

The little reminder of the first-day DADA lesson got everyone talking about Harry even more. Harry tried to change the subject. "Come on, everyone, we're going to be late for class. Let's go…" He pulled ahead of the crowd, leading them to their next class.

Angelina held him back. "No, wait, Harry. I think I speak for everyone when I ask… can you teach us how to fight like that? You can make it part of the SNAPE society! Goodness knows Professor Flitwick will never teach us how to duel, for whatever reason. Right everyone?"

A sea of nodding heads told Harry that he wasn't going to get out of this one. He sighed. "Well, I guess we could always use a few new duelling partners instead of just practicing with each other, right Stilty?"

"I'll spread the news and invite the other schools myself if you call me that again, Bandy."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I realized that other magical countries would also have other magical currencies. That got me thinking about magical world economics more. Then I remembered I'm not an economist.

- I'm wondering if Harry and Hermione would try for different Marauder names each time? I'm open to suggestions. =)


	51. Recognition

**Author's Notes: **ZOMG final movie's out! I still haven't watched it.

- I think it's a shame that Neville's character more or less got shafted for 4 books. At the end of book 1, he overcomes his nervousness to stand up to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Then he becomes a butt-monkey again until OoTP. And he becomes a badass at the end, but only in the background.

- and after some more thought, Hagrid really is a lot worse than he seems. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" really applies to him. As kind-hearted as he is, he can't keep a secret, he knowingly tries to breed illegal creatures (acromantula, dragons), and generally has problems telling the difference between what's harmful for him and harmful for his students- Grawp, acromantula, blast-ended skrewts... I can see why no other students would befriend him.

* * *

**Chapter 51: Recognition**

Harry decided that he was going to need a bigger room. With well over two hundred students showing up for the SNAPE Society: Self-defense session, nobody would be able to even wave their wand without poking someone's eye out in the unused classrooms they'd used so far. Practicing in the wide-open fields outside of Hogwarts was out of the question, since the weather had decided that Scotland had seen far too many sunny days in the past week and was making up for it with a torrential downpour.

"Should we use the Room of Requirement, then?" Harry quietly asked Hermione. He didn't want to disappoint everyone who was watching him hopefully- including several older students.

"I liked having it as a private getaway last time," Hermione griped. "Even the library was busier, especially when Krum kept going down there… but that's not a good reason to keep it a secret, is it?"

"Well, we don't have to give away the secret to summoning it, right? And the Chamber of Secrets can only be opened by me. That one can stay a secret."

"Not to mention all our 'valuables' are down there," Hermione agreed. "We can still keep the Room a bit of a secret, though. I'll run ahead and request a big practice hall while you round everyone up."

Harry led everyone up to the seventh floor, where he saw a doorway larger than he'd ever thought was possible from the room. Hermione threw the doors open as they approached, welcoming everyone inside. The massive doorway was wide enough to easily fit a dozen students at once so everyone quickly found themselves in huge gymnasium with lightly padded flooring. Naturally, they were all impressed, as it was bigger than anything in Hogwarts except the Great Hall, while being better equipped than the old classrooms they'd been using previously.

"How did the Marauders miss this room?" cried Fred. "It's gigantic!"

"How did _we_ miss this room?" cried George. "It's so close to Gryffindor Tower!"

"Hermione! What's the secret? There has to be a secret to getting in here!"

"That's for us to know and for you to keep wondering," Hermione said smugly.

Meanwhile, Harry was wondering how he should teach all the students. He knew that he was about on par with most seventh-years as far as duelling spells went. The problem was that there were many first- and second-years who could barely cast the standard set of charms, never mind the more difficult spells taught to upper-years, like the shield charm. He needed to keep things simple, yet useful for everyone from first to seventh year.

"Come on! We'll do your homework for you for a week!" Fred pleaded to Hermione.

"And end up with a worse grade than if I did it myself? No deal," she responded bitingly. Their persistence was getting on Hermione's nerves, so she cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on herself and a Notice-Me-Lots on Harry.

"Harry! You know all about this room too, don't you?" They instantly refocused on him.

_Gee, thanks, Hermione_, Harry thought. "Guys, I'm trying to start the lesson here. Why don't we begin with the basic shield charm, _Protego_?"

"Are you sure the ickle firsties can handle a spell like that?" George asked.

"Yeah, our dad told us there's ministry workers who still can't cast it properly," Fred agreed.

"I guess it might be a little tough for the younger members here… Well, how about _expelliarmus_ then?" Harry asked.

"And get a repeat of what happened with Lockhart? No thanks!" George jumped in again.

"It's one of those spells that can knock a lot more than your wand off if you cast it improperly, if you know what I mean," Fred wiggled his eyebrows as he said it. "Socks! I was talking about my socks!"

"When will you guys stop cutting in?" Harry asked, growing as annoyed as Hermione. He was tempted to just stun the pair himself.

"When you tell us the secret of this room, of course!"

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. At least he had a bargaining chip with the twins, now. He could call in a favour later… but for now, he just needed to start the lesson. He needed a spell that first-years could handle, but the senior students needed to practice something that they could use to defend themselves against a dangerous criminal or creature… like a mountain troll. He decided on what to use. "Alright, everybody. Today, our first spell we're going to practice is _Wingardium Leviosa_." The groans coming from everyone, including the first-years, told him that while he couldn't please everyone, he could at least disappoint them all equally.

"You've got to be joking."

"What can a measly hover charm do? Lift an earthworm out of harm's way?"

Harry decided to divert the protests to Ron by pointing him out of the crowd and telling everyone, "Ron here defeated a mountain troll using the hover charm in our first year," Harry said. Ron beamed when Harry singled him out, basking in his temporary glory as people stared at him in disbelief.

"That was luck on his part," George said.

"And lots of luck on yours," Fred said. "Seriously, jumping on a troll's back? We haven't forgotten the stories."

"Yeah, but is this luck?" Harry flicked out his second wand, and in the blink of an eye, cast two hover charms on the twins' shoes. Their legs shot up, tipping them over and wrenching their shoes off their feet. As the shoes reached the chandelier overhead, Harry cancelled the spell and let the shoes drop with a loud _thud_ between their legs.

"Alright, Harry. So it is useful, but having two wands is cheating… _wingardium leviosa!_" Both the twins attempted a counterattack on Harry, but he raised a silent shield, blocking their spells easily.

"The incantation's pretty long for that spell, boys. We'll work on silent casting in a few weeks." Harry chuckled as he finally convinced everyone to work on the spell- this time, not just lifting feathers off desks, but coming up with more creative ways to use it.

Restricted to a single spell all of them had already learned and following Harry's example, they started lifting shoes to trip others, socks as a variation, robes to confuse, and even wands to interrupt others' wand movements. Throughout the chaos, Harry was careful to take notes of ideas that others had that he didn't think of himself. He walked around the room, occasionally challenging others to a single-spell "duel". Despite his speed and reflexes, he did manage to find himself on the losing end more than once- to Neville, of all people.

"Th-thanks for going easy on me, Harry," Neville said nervously as Harry pushed the soft floor mat back into place.

"Easy? I was doing the same thing I've been doing with everyone else." Harry gave him a hearty slap on the back. "That was all you, Neville. You're a lot more powerful than you think." Harry wondered if it would be too obvious if he tried to recruit Neville for intensive Moody-style bootcamp again. He could, at least, challenge Neville through the SNAPE Society lessons. Neville was one of the students who had shown up to every meeting so far.

Harry paused for a while to watch how Cedric was doing. He was using his keen eyes to great effect, especially against anyone who accessorized. He often started with the obvious- shoes, robes, and wands, but when his opponent kept those under control he quickly switched to other targets. A light hover charm on earrings was enough to cause some shrieks of pain, necklaces caused panic even though they couldn't actually choke, and when nothing else worked, he tossed a quill and cast a hover charm on that, often aiming for his target's face. Harry decided not to face off against him- he didn't really have anything to teach to the Hogwarts Champion, at least, not for now.

When all of the students finally left the room, the door silently opened one more time. "Very interesting, Potter," Moody muttered to himself as he took off his invisibility cloak.

* * *

Several days later, the sixth-years arrived at their Defense class, weary of the "worst of the worst" dark spells and Unforgivables, and found something completely new. Each desk had a beozar and a three small vials. Knowing exactly what beozars were good for, combined with Moody's teaching style, caused Hermione to stop short. "I don't think today will be a very pleasant class," she said.

"Is it ever pleasant with Moody teaching? And did he decide to switch to teaching potions?" Harry asked, noticing a large collection of vials on Moody's desk.

When everybody took their seats, Moody posed a question to everybody. "Do you all know what was in your breakfast this morning?"

They all knew. At least, they thought they did. That morning the elves served scrambled eggs, oatmeal, cereal… very simple fare. Harry and Hermione had made it routine to check their food for possible pranking before eating, and there was nothing unusual in their bowls. The rest of them were now feeling unsure; some were feeling queasy just imagining what they may have eaten.

Having set the tone for the day, Moody tapped the vials on his desk. The liquid in each disappeared and they reappeared in the flasks on their desks. "Each one of the vials on your desks now carry a different colourless liquid. Two of them are... unpleasant to drink. One is safe. Each of you have to drink one." He went on by teaching a few basic poison-detection spells, giving a short amount of practice time before getting everyone to cast all of the spells on their flasks. The spells were actually simple enough, for most- unfortunately for Marius, who cast one of the detection spells incorrectly, ended up poisoning himself. Moody shoved the beozar into this mouth and he was fine.

Some other students, after seeing Marius's painful results, tried to cheat- replacing all the liquids in their vials with just plain conjured water while Moody was distracted. Unfortunately, they forgot that Moody's eye could see through the back of his head, and he was using it exactly for that purpose. Each of them were surprised to find themselves gagging when they confidently took a gulp from their vials, and once again Moody was shoving beozars down their throats. Others didn't require beozars, but extremely salty water made them gag anyways.

Harry, on the other hand, had a different problem. He had no trouble casting the spells Moody taught that day on his first try, which clearly revealed two of the vials were tainted. Just for fun, however, he tried some more advanced spells that Moody showed him- and it revealed _something_ in his the third. Not poisonous, but certainly more complex than sugar or salt water. Was this some kind of test? Did Moody want him to think it was nothing, and drink from it?

"Hermione, could you check my vials for me? I think I've found something."

Hermione cast the spells they were supposed to, finding nothing. "Looks like there's nothing dangerous, Harry."

"Use the Diluted Draught revealer spell," he suggested. Hermione did so, producing a very faint yellow glow.

"O…kay. Are we _absolutely_ sure this Moody isn't being imperioused by Barty Crouch?" she whispered.

"Well, we can never be completely sure about anything, but I haven't seen _either_ Bartemius Crouch on the Marauder's Map for the past two months. And believe me, I've been keeping an eye on that piece of parchment." Harry answered.

"Then take the beozar anyways," Hermione suggested. "In fact, let's swap… just in case yours is tainted. And don't eat lunch until after we get you to Madam Pomfrey in case it's one of the rare poisons that beozars don't nullify."

"Actually, I think I'd rather just drink one of the poisons. At least I know that one is only going to give me an upset stomach." On his turn, Harry deliberately miscast the spells, showing nothing in the middle flask. He hoped he wasn't being too obvious by faking it.

"You sure about that, Potter? Take a swig and see if you're right," Moody challenged. Harry nervously took a sip, noting Moody was watching him with a piercing gaze. He immediately began gagging, as he expected. Quickly grabbing the beozar, he could feel the pain subside the instant it entered his mouth.

"Sorry, sir. I guess I miscast it. I thought I had it right as soon as I saw one good vial and two bad ones," he said.

"I expected better from you, Potter. You'd better be practicing on your spare time."

After the class was over, Moody watched Harry hurrying out of the class. He had expected the boy to take up the diluted neutralizing potion. Potter, surprisingly, avoided that trap and walked straight into his other one. Unfortunately for him, the results pointed to two seemingly contradictory things. He eagerly watched as Harry popped a beozar in his mouth- to no effect. Beozars didn't just nullify poisons, they nullified the effects of many beneficial potions as well- and it seemed that it wasn't James using a de-aging potion. But he _must_ have known there was something in the third vial- and he'd need something like an auror's forensic spell to catch it. That poorly-acted 'miscast' obviously meant Potter had something to hide. He'd have to scratch polyjuice and de-aging potions off his list, but he did want to investigate some scarring he'd noticed on Harry's back.

He never had a great appreciation for Muggles, and he heard that Harry grew up with them. Barbaric. Probably gave the boy lashings. He didn't want to intrude on the boy's private life, but under closer scrutiny he noticed the scars had a regular pattern to them. He'd need to find some excuse to get a closer look sometime.

* * *

Sirius had news to deliver to Harry when they met up on the next Hogsmeade weekend. "The cursebreakers finished the job, Harry. They found a ring where they were supposed to, but…" he said with a glum expression.

"But what? Was anyone hurt in the process? Or killed?"

"No, they're all fine, but this is all they got." Sirius dropped a dull ring on the table. The band was made of gold, but it bore a mere pebble instead of a gemstone. Harry, much like the others, got the impression that the ring was supposed to be extremely valuable. The stone cut into a square and had some kind of family crest, but it had been worn down and wasn't from any family that Harry recognized. Harry hadn't extracted enough memories from Voldemort to know exactly what it should look like, but he was certain Voldemort prized it as a ring even before it was turned into a horcrux. A pebble on a gold band practically screamed "decoy" to him.

"Were there curses on that ring?"

"Plenty, or so they told me. In fact, here's the full list…" Sirius pulled out a long scroll of parchment. "Why did you want them to record all of it? You're not planning on doing something crazy like this yourself, are you, Harry? This took half a dozen cursebreakers to manage successfully. Look, there's even confounding and allure charms built into this thing."

The fact was that Harry _was_ going to try it himself, just in case things didn't work out perfectly this time around. At the very least, he was guessing that Voldemort would put similar protections on all of his horcruxes. "I just think it would be useful to have a record, because there's one more and he may have left the same protections on. Let's move on to the next one until we can find the real ring," Harry sighed.

After laying plans to seek out the next horcrux, Sirius moved on to some lighter conversation. "So, what's with all the… uh… pretty girls in different uniforms around here? It kind of makes me wish I was a student again."

"Oh, nothing important. Just some tournament with another school," Harry said, waving it off.

"Oh, I don't know, Harry… this could be your chance to dazzle some sweet foreign beauty…"

"Ahem." Hermione cleared her throat in the most unconvincing way.

"I concur," Harry said. "What about you, Sirius? Surely you're not thinking of chatting up some girl who's half your age, are you?"

"What? No! I wasn't suggesting… or even thinking… I mean, there's already…"

"Already someone? You can't possibly leave us hanging with that, Sirius."

"Look, it's nothing. It probably won't work out, anyways. I don't remember getting her name."

"Please don't tell me you just ogled the prettiest woman in the room without talking to her," Hermione said disapprovingly.

"No, no… I was drunk. She probably told me her name, but I forgot it. Anyways, I was probably blabbering about my stint in Azkaban and my whole life and she just listened patiently and gave me some good advice."

"Which was…?"

"I don't remember that, either. Something about looking forward. That was the gist of it. I must have had a lot that evening. Anyways, she said she was some kind of mind healer… Sikey or something… and that she'd like to talk to me some more. Wait, I think she gave me a card…" He dug around his pockets and came up with a simple business card with the name _Dr. Janine Greyson_.

"A psychiatrist?" Hermione suggested, suddenly getting a much better picture of what may have happened that night. "I don't think she was interested in you romantically."

"A psychiatrist, huh?" Sirius repeated glumly. "Wait, what's a psychiatrist?"

"Like a doctor, but they work on people's minds. Wizards don't have psychiatrists?" Harry explained.

"They don't. Sirius, did you wander into a muggle pub?"

"I guess so. Lily showed us to a few after we all turned eighteen. I don't quite remember… oh no. I invited her to my house."

"And she accepted?" Hermione asked, incredulously. "I hope you didn't start talking about magic, or else she would have thought you were completely insane."

"No, I'm pretty sure I went home alone that night, but if she had, she would have met my mother."

"Well, that certainly would have breached the Statute of Secrecy. If you hadn't already."

"Yeah, well, I'm thinking about more important things, like if I'm ever going to be able to bring guests home," Sirius said.

"Why don't you just sell the house if you hate it so much?" Harry suggested.

"Why... hey, that's a good idea, actually. I've never heard of a Head of House selling their house before, but I guess there's a first time for everything. I'd rather be rid of that thing and start anew. Leave the past behind. Maybe that's what Janine meant…"

"Just make sure you don't leave behind anything you'd regret," Hermione warned.

"Bah. There's nothing in that house I want to remember. It's full of bad memories and a family that hated me. I think the only reason I'm the Head now is because my little brother died young. I'm sure I can get a good price for it… and I'll find someplace better to live. Somebody else can deal with my screaming mother."

"Where are you going to go, though?"

"I don't know… maybe Godric's Hollow. Do you remember your old house, Harry?"

"No. I've never been there…" Harry felt a wave of sadness wash over him as he was reminded of his parents. "Is that where my mum and dad are buried, as well?"

"Yes… I mean, it's one of the places I first visited when I escaped last year before I found out you were living with muggles. Do you want to go visit, Harry? I can write a note to McGonagall to tell her you're visiting them. I think it'd be nice to visit them on Halloween, won't it?"

Halloween was also the day that was selected for the Choosing of the Champions, but nobody would miss him if Barty Crouch wasn't there to sabotage the cup. "Sure thing, Sirius. I'd like that…"

* * *

One week later, after informing Professor McGonagall that he'd be missing the Halloween feast, he met Sirius at the front gates as soon as his classes were over. They began walking down the path towards Hogsmeade. "We'll be flooing through the Three Broomsticks," Sirius told him.

"You're not going to apparate us?" Harry asked.

"I'm… not confident enough with my side-along to do that yet," Sirius said. Besides, it'll give us some time to talk."

"Alright," Harry said, smiling. "How's your house-hunting coming along?"

"I was thinking of looking around with you… you'll be living with me over the summer, won't you? I can show you around the town. I probably spent more time visiting than I should have, back in the day."

"Can you tell me what the town's like?"

"Well, it's a pure wizarding town like Hogsmeade, but it's not too far from a muggle town… Exeter or something like that. That was one of Lily's demands when they decided where to live, actually. Said she couldn't give up certain muggle conveniences. There's also a forest nearby so we could still go on our monthly runs without disturbing anyone. That was one of James's demands. I guess this town was just perfect for them."

"Is my parents' home still there?"

Sirius hesitated for a moment. "Yes… in fact, I heard it's just like the way it was…" he said. "Well, you'll just have to see for yourself."

Stepping into the fireplace at the Three Broomsticks and tumbling out of the one at the Sword and Spirit, Harry felt something he thought he'd gotten used to over the past few years. He was being stared at. Perhaps it was because his classmates mostly got used to him and stopped staring, or maybe it was because they only stared at him when something crazy happened, like accidentally speaking Parseltongue or getting picked as a fourth champion. This time, it was like stepping into the Leaky Cauldron for the first time ever- people were staring at him just for who he was. Then came the pointing and whispering.

"Is that who I think it is?"

"Look at the scar on his forehead!"

"It's Harry Potter!"

"Potter, my boy, what an honour it is to see you here!"

Harry halfheartedly mumbled a few hellos as he pushed through the crowd to the door outside. "I wasn't expecting that," he sighed. "Although I should have, I guess."

They continued walking towards the center of town, where an old statue of the town's namesake, Godric Gryffindor, stood at the center of the town square. Proudly holding his sword on his left hand and wand in his right, he looked as if he was ready to come to life and defend the town at a moment's notice. Obviously that hadn't happened in 1981 when Voldemort charged into the town, or else there wouldn't have been another statue further down the street.

This one was modelled after Harry as a baby and his parents. Harry stared at it for a very long time, his eyes jumping from the loving faces to the hands that were caressing the baby softly despite being carved from stone. "Sirius," he finally spoke up, "Is this really what they looked like?"

"Yes, Harry. At least, as much as I can remember. Do you have any memories of your parents at all?"

"No… well, there's one thing… just their voices."

"That's good," Sirius said.

"No it's not. It was just before they died… Mum was pleading with Voldemort to spare my life."

"That's not good," Sirius said glumly. "I could tell you a few more stories of them so you have something better to remember them by. Are you sure you want to see your old house now? It's just around the corner, and I don't want to stir up any more bad memories."

"What do you mean?"

His question was answered as they rounded the corner and saw a single home with a shattered roof, a blasted-in front door, and shattered windows all around. The battle could have taken place yesterday, for all Harry knew, except for the fact that there were bustling businesses left and right with bright lights and gaudy signs. His old home had been turned into a tourist trap.

"This isn't exactly how I remembered it," Sirius said. Harry stayed silent, just taking in as much of his old home and ignoring the souvenir shops as best he could.

As they walked up to the house, they saw a sign on the front gate read, "The Potter home has been declared a historical site by the Ministry of Magic. It is maintained in its ruined state as a monument to Harry Potter and his defeat of the Dark Lord. No entry permitted." All around the sign was graffiti that thanked Harry for destroying Voldemort. Reading all the messages gave Harry a mixed feeling. At first, he thought it was anger at all the people who had scrawled things all over his home, but he was actually warmed by the congratulations that were given.

The memory of the night of the attack flashed through his mind again. _"Not Harry! No! He's just a baby! Please don't kill him!"_

"_This is your last chance. Step aside, you silly girl, and hand the boy over to me."_

"_NO!" _

Lily's final shout had always haunted Harry's dreams. Her final, agonizing scream as she died always woke Harry with a start, but now he remembered something else.

"_No."_

His mother hadn't died screaming like that. She hadn't been scared in her final moment- she was determined, defiant. She had refused to step out of the way. The last thing Harry remembered was a flash of green. There was fear, followed by warmth and protection that was so comforting that he had drifted off to sleep afterwards. He never even remembered Voldemort casting the killing curse on him.

"They're thanking the wrong person," Harry said, finally.

"Excuse me?" Sirius said, surprised by Harry's first choice of words.

"I didn't do anything that night. My mother saved my life. I'm sure she did something that caused Voldemort to die as well. I managed to sleep through it. I _couldn't_ have done anything to Voldemort."

"But Dumbledore said that _you_ were the one who reflected the spell back at You-Know-Who."

"He wasn't there. As far as I remember, only Voldemort, my mother, and I were in that room that night. There were no other witnesses. How did Dumbledore immediately jump to the conclusion that the unblockable killing curse got blocked? And instead of killing without harming the body, it completely destroyed Voldemort's body . None of it makes sense. I just wish I could go inside and look around." He prodded the gate, which was magically sealed and refused to budge.

"Come on, Mr. Bandanna, you'd have an easier time getting in there than I would." Sirius pointed at the gaping hole in the roof.

"Are you sure the preservation wards don't extend all the way above the house as well?" Harry asked.

"There's only one way to find out! Come on, I'll keep a lookout for you. You can transform over there," he said, nudging Harry towards a secluded path between two of the shops.

"I'm sure there's plenty of other ways to find out," Harry insisted.

"But this way's faster. Do it before the whole town knows you're here."

"Fine." Harry cast a notice-me-not charm on himself to be on the safe side before he took flight. He carefully attempted to descend through the roof, but felt a repelling force. He could only keep circling above, and look down at the house. At the very least, he could still see the room in which the final confrontation had taken place.

Inside, there was a crib, still untouched. The hole blasted through the roof was just above the doorway to the bedroom, which was also shattered and charred. It seemed that Voldemort had only taken one step into the room and somehow _exploded_ upon trying to kill Harry. It was strange that there was so much destruction on that side of the room, yet everything behind the crib seemed to have been protected. In fact, the charring seemed to stop abruptly just one step in front- where Lily must have been standing. Harry had no doubt now that his mother had protected him.

Flying back down to Sirius, he quickly asked, "Were you the one that found me that night, Sirius?"

"Yes, Harry… I'm sorry to say I went chasing after Peter instead of keeping you safe. That was stupid…"

"That's all in the past. I just want to confirm something. Do you remember what things looked like when you arrived?"

"Well… I was a little distraught. James was crumpled on the floor of the living room… I could tell he put up a good fight but it just wasn't enough, you know? I just knew it would get worse when I went upstairs. The door to your bedroom was blasted off its hinges, and some of it was on fire. I put it out when I got there. I knew he was after you, and at the same time I knew Lily would never give you up for anything, and the first thing I saw was Lily, lying on the ground. She… could have been sleeping. I knew it was futile, but I tried to wake her up anyways. When I knew she was dead, I just about gave up hope. I thought Voldemort had just killed you and fled… both your parents were dead, so what chance did a one-year-old have, right? But then I noticed the crib was fine… and I picked you up. Took me a second to realize you were still breathing. Only a little scratch on your forehead."

"Thanks, Sirius. I think it's time I thanked my parents."

"And I need to apologize to them. Come on, let's pick up a few flowers first."

* * *

They laid a bouqet of lilies on the headstone, a simple white marble slab. It only had their names, birth and death dates, and a single message: _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_. Harry wondered if his parents had already chosen that message before their deaths. Who really planned their own gravestone when they were still in their early twenties? Voldemort considered death to be an enemy and sought to conquer it. Was immortality an inherently immoral goal? The Flamels were _practically_ immortal with their Philosopher's Stone, and they were nice people who didn't attempt to usurp governments and murder people for their blood purity. _Forget it,_ Harry told himself. _I'm not here to get all philosophical._

"Hi mum. Hi dad," he announced to the headstone. He paused for a few moments, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry I didn't come visit sooner. Um… thank you for saving my life. I can't even comprehend how much you must love me. You gave your lives to stand up to Voldemort that night. I'm getting a whole lot of attention for defeating Voldemort, but I think it must have been you two that did it. I'm going to make sure you two get the recognition you deserve. You're the parents who defeated Voldemort. The world should be thanking you. You gave me life. And then you gave up yours for me. I just hope I can be as brave and as loving as the two of you were." A few hot tears slowly streamed down his cheeks as he made his little speech. After he finished, Sirius began his own.

"James. Lily. It's been a while for me, too. I hope you can see what a fantastic boy the two of you produced. He got your looks and your brains," he said, pointing to James and Lily's names respectively. After this his face turned grim and he fell to his knees. "And I didn't have any part in it. I was stupid not to take care of him like I should have. I ended up tossed in Azkaban, your sister Petunia ended up 'caring' for your boy. The only good thing about that I can say is that it probably toughened him up. Don't worry, though. I'll be making up for lost time from now on. I'll be the godfather I should have been, James. Marauder's oath. Speaking of which, Harry's a Marauder now, too! You should see him, James. He can fly better without a broom than you ever could with your Nimbus 1500. We'll drop by again… we promise."

"I'd like to spend more time here, but I don't think we'd have any peace," Harry said. There was a crowd of onlookers watching Harry and Sirius. The only thing keeping them at bay seemed to be a few ghosts that haunted the graveyard, who had all gathered in front of them with very disapproving looks on their translucent faces.

"I was hoping it would be the ideal place for you to spend your summers, but I guess that's not the case," Sirius sighed. "The whole town's changed so much, anyway. It's just not what I was hoping for. Maybe I could look for a house in Shallott or something."

* * *

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Hermione was waiting for them at the front gate, along with Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Maxime, Moody, and a dozen other adults. Before Harry could even ask what happened, Hermione said, "I'll give you three guesses, and the last two don't count."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- yeah, yeah... it'll be slightly different, though, and I won't be concentrating on the actual events as much, since we (and harry) all know what they are.

- Do people regularly visit graves in Britain? I know it's a cultural thing. It's an annual trip for my family. Probably different for Harry, though, since it's his parents and not his great-grandparents or something.


	52. The Third Champion

**Author's Notes: **nearly half a million HP fanfics on this site alone... JKR, what have you spawned?

- Good news: I'm going back to school! Bad news: I'm going back to school!

* * *

**Chapter 52: The Third Champion**

"Where's Cedric?" Harry asked, looking back and forth between at Fleur and the Durmstrang boy who had arrogantly boasted that he would be the champion upon his arrival.

"Cedric? Who is zat?" Fleur asked.

"You know… the Hogwarts Champion…" Harry stuttered out, sensing something was very wrong.

"_You_ are ze 'Ogwarts champion. And yet you do not show up for ze choosing?"

"What? You mean I'm not the fourth champion?"

"Four? _Tri_-wizard Tournament. Three champions. Is counting no longer a skill required at Hogwarts?" The Durmstrang boy said mockingly.

"Never mind," Harry said. He didn't bother opening his mouth again, lest he make himself look even stupider.

"And why did you not even attend ze feast? Zen you make us wait hours after you are chosen," huffed Fleur.

"I had more important things to do," Harry said. He didn't want to share the details of his private life with the ice-cold Fleur. What did he do last time for her to warm up to him? He couldn't remember exactly.

"More important? What could possibly be more important zen ze tournament? Eet eez ze road to fame and fortune! You will represent your country!"

"Oh, don't worry. I already have both, but my patriotism isn't running very high at the moment. I didn't enter my name in the cup, anyway."

"That much is certain, Harry. Did you ask an older student to enter your name for you, though?" Dumbledore asked as he walked into the room, followed by Maxime and Karkaroff.

"Is that really all it takes to bypass the protections around the Goblet?" Harry asked incredulously, not bothering to answer the question.

"Come now, Dumbledore, you can't possibly be backing out just because the Goblet chose a younger contestant? Just because he has no chance against Ivan…" Karkaroff sneered, thumping his champion's back hard, which sounded more like hitting a tree trunk than a person.

"Yes, yes. Ze dangers of ze tournament were explained quite clearly to all ze students. If 'e broke ze rules to enter ze Tournament, zen being forced to compete should be a very poetic punishment," Maxime said. Karkaroff nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Yes, he might learn some humility when he has to face _real_ competition," Ivan added. "Just try not to die. The Tournament has history of… culling the weak." Fleur smirked at his remark.

_Oh, that's it. Technically I might be cheating, but I'll show them_, Harry thought. "You know what? I don't care what you have to say. See you at the first trial." He waved them off angrily and made for the door.

"Harry, I'm sorry I do not have the power to override the Goblet of Fire, but it is a very courageous decision to face your fate," Dumbledore told him as he passed by.

_Does that old fart always have to say something wise-sounding whenever I see him?_ Harry thought angrily, without letting his emotions show on his face. _Especially when I know he's completely wrong. Did he just try to tell me that giving up is a courageous and noble choice? _ He pushed through the few journalists who lingered behind in hopes of getting a quick interview.

"Wait, Mr. Potter! The Weighing of…" Ludo Bagman tried to call out to him, but he was too frustrated to hang around. He knew what was coming up, so he ran directly to Gryffindor tower. He was greeted by loud whooping, cheering, and applause. He heard a few bottles of butterbeer uncork as everyone congratulated him as a party in the common room began.

"Wow, Harry, we never thought you would actually be picked," George said.

"Yeah, I mean, your lessons during SNAPES is fantastic, but we had it pinned on Michael being the champion," Fred added.

"Or Roger Davies, from Ravenclaw," Lee Jordan added.

"None of you thought Cedric Diggory would be champion?" Harry asked.

"You mean the pretty-boy from Hufflepuff? Why him?" Seamus asked.

"He _did_ give Harry a run for his money last year in Quidditch. And he ain't half bad in Harry's duelling lessons," Dean said.

"_I_ wouldn't mind cheering for him," one of the girls chimed in. "But of course I'm behind you all the way, Harry."

"That doesn't matter now! Tonight, you've made Gryffindor the champions of Hogwarts! Go Gryffindor! Go Harry!"

Everyone in the tower was in a festive mood, while Harry quietly sipped his butterbeer on the armchair with Hermione on his lap. "I just… don't understand how I'm the champion again. What happened? Who could have slipped my name in?" Harry asked.

"They didn't tell you? It was the twins," Hermione said. "I think they put nearly everyone's name in from Gryffindor."

"Didn't they get caught?" Harry distinctly remembered the pranksters sporting long, fluffy beards a few weeks ago.

"Only after Dumbledore came back and added more protections. It only took them two nights to bypass Professor Flitwick and McGonagall's charms," Hermione explained.

"Still doesn't explain why I'm the champion. Barty Crouch Jr. is some kind of expert with enchanted objects, but I don't see the twins altering the Goblet that way."

"They didn't have to. You're the Hogwarts champion, Harry."

"Of course I am, that's what…"

"No, don't you get it? You're the _Hogwarts_ champion. You're simply the best candidate that Hogwarts has to offer."

"That can't be…" Harry paused. He knew exactly what the events were going to be. He'd received half a year's worth of auror-level training from Moody himself. His potions skill was getting better every week under Fleming's tutelage, and teaching duelling and brewing to other students was improving his own skills in those fields just as much.

"Since I'm learning duelling on my own and potions from a private tutor, I don't think I'm really representing Hogwarts, here."

"Maybe the Goblet doesn't mind where your knowledge comes from."

"This feels like cheating. If they haven't changed the riddle, I bet I could finish the Trial of Water in ten minutes flat."

"Maybe the Goblet doesn't mind _when_ your knowledge came from, either. Look, you don't even have to take this seriously- all you really have to do is show up at the events, right? Who cares about a silly contest?"

"True," Harry said, but secretly he really wanted to put his competition in their place. Not for Hogwarts, but himself. Thankfully, the first event was the Trial of Air, and he'd be an even better flier than last time. He could kick off the tournament with a commanding lead.

* * *

Breakfast was rowdier than usual as many students found out that Harry was, officially, the Hogwarts champion. While most of the younger students were still star-struck and wholly supportive, many sixth- and seventh-years were not.

"I thought that was going to get fixed!"

"Weren't we going to pick a different champion?"

"Great, we've got a little kid representing us."

"Why is the Gryffindor golden boy getting to compete? It's against the rules!"

He wasn't without his fair share of supporters, however, most notably from the Gryffindor table. A few Hufflepuffs threw in their support as well, as well as the few upper-years who had decided to attend the SNAPES meetings.

"Harry's a fantastic choice, if any of you have ever actually talked to him, you'd know!" Cedric declared, to Harry's surprise.

"Yeah, he's great in our study groups, he's taking sixth-year courses already, and doing better than most of the class! He's as good a champion as any sixth- or seventh-year bloke!" one of the Ravenclaws from his Runes class added.

Ron was also at Harry's side this time, not something he'd expected. "I'd like you see any of you do better! Haven't the Durmstrang students been picking on you all month? Harry's the only one who had the stones to stand up to them!"

Again, to Harry's surprise, Draco seemed to have stopped attending school and wasn't there to protest. Luna was, though. "The Goblet must have picked the wrong name, because Harry Potter doesn't go to Hogwarts any more. This one has to be some kind of duplicate," she announced. As usual, few people took notice of her crackpot statements.

All three of the headmasters stood up together, announcing that the decision was final. For the first time since their arrival, the three of them all agreed with the decision. Dumbledore's acceptance was the most puzzling, but, as usual, the British students all assumed that he knew something they didn't. The foreign students were just happy that one of their competitors was a "mere" fourteen-year-old.

"Thanks for the support, everyone," Harry said to those that had gathered around him. "I'm thinking of flying around the castle to celebrate after classes- anyone else want to join me?" He wanted to get some more practice on his broom without giving away the fact that he knew what was coming up.

"Sure, Harry. That sounds like a great idea! Just because there's no Quidditch this year doesn't mean we can't have a few games on our own!"

"We can even scout out players early for next year!" Katie suggested. And she was right. After classes, the word had gone around and there were plenty of people looking to play a pick-up game of Quidditch. Many of the second- and third-years who weren't confident enough to try out for the team still showed up for a friendly flying session at the Quidditch pitch. With over forty students on the field, too many of them would be sitting out in the sidelines if they were to play a proper game. Instead, Harry settled back on to his original plan.

"Everyone who wants to play a game of Quidditch, head over to Katie and she'll sort out the teams. Everyone who just wants to fly around and maybe play Follow-The-Leader, you can follow me!" he yelled as he mounted his broom.

"Wait, you're not playing?" Ron shouted after him.

"I've got a Firebolt. It wouldn't be fair, especially with all the newcomers today. Besides, you should probably be looking for a reserve seeker anyway. I have a tendency to get injured, if you haven't noticed."

As he took off, a train of a dozen other students took to the air after him. He started with a few lazy loops to warm up and make sure the others were comfortable on their brooms. Seeing that everyone was keeping after circling the pitch twice, he sped up a little and soared past the top bleachers. He spiralled upwards, higher and higher, seeing a few nervously drop away, probably due to a fear of heights. He was already much higher than his usual vantage point when he had to scan the entire pitch for the snitch, so he quickly flipped around and dove straight down towards the ground, rocketing past those who had turned around early.

He pulled back early, not wanting to show off too badly. As he came close to brushing the ground, he actually felt a twinge of fear run through him- not for his own safety, but for the two or three others who were attempting to follow him closely. He thought he'd pull up early enough that some of the others, riding older Cleansweep sixes, would still be able to pull out, but one of them was headed straight to the ground and Harry knew he wouldn't be able to stop in time.

Springing his wand from his holster, he cast a cushioning charm at the ground as quickly as he could manage. Thankfully, the rider was pulling up and managed to hit the cushioning charm feet first, but still ploughed straight through it and into the ground. Harry only noticed it was a girl, probably a first-year, picking herself up off the ground, barely holding back her tears. "Are you alright?" Harry asked. "Do you want me to take you to see Madam Pomfrey?"

"I-I'm fine. I just… couldn't keep up on the old school broom, that's all," she said.

"What's your name? What year are you?"

"I'm Demelza Robins… I-I'm only first year, I know I shouldn't be flying without my own broom… I'm sorry. I'll go now." She picked up the old, used broom and dejectedly shuffled her way back to the bleachers. Harry was reminded of how much he'd loved flying from the first time he ever mounted his broom. Then he was reminded of how depressed he was when the Whomping Willow smashed up his Nimbus. He didn't want to end the dreams of another young Quidditch prodigy early, especially if she had _almost_ been able to perform a suicide drop on a school broom a mere month and a half after her first flying lesson.

"Hey, wait up," Harry said. "You're still good to fly, right? Why don't we trade brooms?"

Demelza stopped in her tracks. "You… you can't be serious… I mean… that's _your_ broom… you can't…"

"Of course I can. Hurry up, everyone else is waiting," Harry said, quickly pulling the school broom out of her hands and shoving his towards her.

"Ohmigod this is a Firebolt… it's… it's Harry Potter's Firebolt… I can't believe I'm touching it… he… you're letting me ride it? Ohmigod ohmigod I _promise_ I'll be careful! I won't break it or anything!" Demelza began to follow, flying even more cautiously than she originally did with the school broom.

Harry was taking it slowly as well, trying to adjust to the vastly different old broom. It was certainly slower. It was also heavier, making his turns a little harder to pull off, yet he could feel every little breeze pushing him off course. Its control and stability charms must have been worn away. On the other hand, he was quickly beginning to find the unsteadiness of the broom more entertaining. He'd gotten used to the Firebolt- still the most advanced Quidditch broom in the world to date, but after receiving flying lessons from Hedwig, he realized that it responded to the rider, and _only_ the rider. It had mostly allowed him to ignore the wind instead of drift along with it. Now, with the ratty old broom, he realized he was closer to actual flying than he'd ever been.

Without any real direction in mind, he drifted back and forth, twisting and twirling, gliding through the wind as it carried him through the air like a leaf. Things got especially interesting when he circled around the goalposts, flitting in and out between them, letting the broom lead him. Occasionally when he was forced to make a turn the broom couldn't handle, he ended up using his robes like a sail- or a wing- to give that little extra power the charms couldn't supply. It wasn't until someone else yelled at him that he'd realized he lost the entire group.

"Oi, Harry! Are we still playing Follow-The-Leader? Because if we are, you should stop doing the impossible."

"Huh?" With a lazy spin, he turned to see everyone else just hovering nearby. It seemed that everyone else had given up trying to follow him exactly and were now just watching him move.

"I-I'm riding a Firebolt and I couldn't even keep up with you," Demelza sobbed. "You can have your broom back, Harry… I'm a horrible flyer…"

"How did you move like that? I've never seen anyone pull off those stunts you just did, and I've watched a lot of Quidditch," Fay gushed.

"Yeah, most of us thought you were going to fall off the broom or crash every five seconds," Colin admitted.

"Hermione's down there, freaking out," Ginny informed him, pointing at her out of the crowd. It seemed like Hermione's normally bushy hair was now even more chaotic than before.

"Huh… um… Well, Demelza… don't sweat it. I'm not sure if I could have done that with my Firebolt, either," Harry said to calm her down. "And Colin… Ginny… did it really look that bad? I thought I was just playing around."

"Yes, it looked bad," Ginny said. "You looked like you were knocked out by a bludger and falling into the stands half the time. Then there were the spins and tumbles that only happen to riders who've lost control completely, except it turns out you were in complete control."

"Yeah, you should have seen Demelza. I think she only kept up with you for ten seconds before she nearly bucked herself into one of the hoops. I don't think anyone else even came close," Colin added.

"Well… I'm going to see if I can do that again," Harry said, mounting his Firebolt. "I wouldn't suggest any of you follow me." He took off again, but immediately felt disconnected from his flying. He almost thought there was something wrong at first, but came to realize that the broom was working exactly as it had been before. Demelza had kept her promise, at least. The broom was doing an excellent job of dampening the air currents, and that was the problem. Whereas before it was a blessing that had allowed him to concentrate on the Snitch, it was now getting in the way of the fun he'd discovered as a bird.

He knew the extra manoeuvrability would definitely come in handy- but the school brooms were simply too slow. _Maybe I can build myself a better broom, _he thought.

* * *

"I'm not sure I'm following your reasoning, Harry," Professor Vector said, looking at a set of messily scratched drawings that Harry had handed him. "Three and five are both closely associated with air, but three is preferable, as it's luckier. On top of that, four creates stability, and adding the two together makes seven; a very powerful combination. Nearly all brooms share this fundamental arrangement. We covered this in the analysis of your Firebolt…"

"I was thinking of one, one, and five, actually," Harry explained. "It's less stable, but more powerful, and I think it should have a higher affinity for air. It still totals to seven."

"Unstable? That's putting it lightly. Without a four, and with two of the same number, I'd be surprised if a person even managed to mount it. You'd need a dozen dampening charms to make it workable- that's just not worth the effort over the more common layout. I don't think any broom company could market a product like this…"

A knock on the door disrupted Harry's arithmancy discussion. Colin Creevy was standing at the door. "Um… sorry to interrupt… but I'm here to take Harry down to…"

"The Weighing of the Wands," Harry finished for him. "Can we continue this later, Professor?"

With Professor Vector's nod, Harry jogged down to the Great Hall with Colin at his heels the entire time. "I just knew you'd be our champion, Harry! Ever since they announced the tournament!" Colin yapped like an excited puppy.

"Even when they said it was only for wizards who were of age?" Harry said.

"That doesn't matter. You know I've attended every single one of your SNAPES meetings?" Harry knew that very well, in fact. "Well, you're practically a professor yourself! You've been teaching everyone so much!"

"I'm not the only one. Hermione leads the History sessions and Barnabas is doing a great job with Care of Magical Creatures. I only do Duelling and Potions."

"Yeah, the exciting ones!"

"Potions isn't really exciting."

"Yeah, but Dueling is! You're going to blow the other champions away! Ka-pow! Fizzam!" With Colin making his sound effects, Harry knew it would be a lost cause. At least the Slytherins hadn't been bothering him this time, for whatever reason.

Just like last time, Mr. Ollivander was waiting for the champions to assemble, as well as the mediwitches. Ludo Bagman had finally returned, but apparently Bartemius Crouch had been permanently replaced. Bagman seemed to be overdoing his enthusiasm, probably to make up for the fact that England still wasn't looking very good to its competition.

Ivan went first, following the full set of spells that Mr. Ollivander demonstrated just as Harry remembered it. This time, he noticed Ollivander doing something with his left hand- last time, he had been too distracted watching the actual spells for the weighing. _So that's how they disabled my wand last time,_ Harry realized.

When his turn arrived, he immediately drew his off-hand dragon heartstring wand. If things got really hairy, he'd rather lose that one than his trusty phoenix feather wand. "Well, well, Mr. Potter. Do you intend to make your way through the entire tournament with the rowan and dragon heartstring? It would be quite a severe disadvantage. The holly and phoenix feather is simply a much better match."

"I'll be fine with it," Harry answered confidently. The last several weeks of practicing left-handed spellwork was quickly bringing him up to speed. He needed some kind of handicap to keep the competition fair. Harry handed it over to Mr. Ollivander, who performed his set of spells as well as the sneaky registration spell for the tournament. Harry took it back. He conjured a stone, levitated it, transfigured it to wood, set it on fire, doused it with water, blew it up and vanished the sawdust, all flawlessly, albeit a little slower and more cautiously than if he had done it with his right hand.

"Very good, Mr. Potter. That wand is certainly fit for competition. Now, the mediwitches are waiting, if you please," Ollivander gestured towards the side room where Harry would be receiving his medical checkup.

Harry walked inside with much more pride this time, almost ready to show off his healthier, fitter body. Then he realized that the only thing covering his runic scars was a simple glamour… but if they hadn't noticed last time, they shouldn't this time, so he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he saw Moody standing in the corner of the room. "Err… Professor Moody? What are you doing here?"

"Security," the old auror grunted, and said no more. Even the nurses were uncomfortable with his presence, but they didn't dare kick him out.

"Mr. Potter. Please lie down on the cot…" Harry noted that Moody was watching intently as the witches performed their medical scans. "Well, Mr. Potter, it seems that you're in perfect health. In fact, I've rarely ever seen someone in such good condition unless they've been taking a regrowth potion regimen…"

"I did," Harry admitted. "Over the summer."

"Really? There aren't any records listed. Who was the healer that approved the treatment?"

"Uh… no healer. It was homebrewed."

"Home…? Well, at least it worked. You really should get a potion made by an approved potions master in the future. Next, we'll need a drop of blood…"

"Blood? What for?"

"Extra security requirements," she said, her eyes darting towards Moody momentarily. Harry obediently held out his hand. He felt a pinprick as the nurse cast a spell that drew a drop of blood, which she then dropped into some kind of potion. After a few swirls, she dripped the mixture on to a piece of parchment, which quickly displayed the name _Harry James Potter_. "Satisfied, Mr. Moody?"

"Not nearly. Did you catch the scarring on his back? It looks unhealthy." Harry's heart dropped into his stomach. "Take off your shirt, boy."

"Um. I'd rather not."

"Don't be embarrassed, dear, all healers and mediwitches swear a magical oath of patient confidentiality. We just want what's best for your health."

"Yeah, but what about him?" Harry asked, pointing to Moody.

"He's taken a vow not to reveal anything that does not pertain to the security of the tournament, an additional vow not to discuss any medical issues the champions may have, and finally, a contract with all three ministries not to discuss anything about the champions not pertaining to security. Satisfied, Mr. Potter?"

"Not nearly," Harry mimicked Moody. "How long do these contracts and oaths last? What does he stand to lose if he breaks them? I… don't exactly like people seeing them."

Moody answered him directly this time. "Only until the end of the tournament, otherwise I'll be facing hefty fines and possibly a stint in Azkaban. Potter, as a retired auror I don't have very much money and I don't fancy being locked in a prison where I personally sent half the inmates there. Believe me, I'm just doing my job. Now let's see what's going on with those scars."

With no other choice available to him, Harry removed his shirt, while secretively unsheathing his wand as he turned around. "I don't see anything wrong," the nurses said.

"That's because you're not looking hard enough," Moody said. "_Finite!"_

A few silent seconds passed before Harry heard one of the witches ask, "Is there something we're supposed to see, Mr. Moody?"

"Yes, I'm looking at it right now, but this damn glamour won't end. _Finite Incantatum!_" he cast again, still revealing nothing. "_Videa Verita!"_ The stronger spell ended the charm.

The mediwitches both gasped as the massive amount of scarring on Harry's back revealed itself. "Merlin's beard… these are blood runes! Who did this to you, Mr. Potter?"

"Me." No need to bring Hermione into this discussion.

"What does all this mean, Potter?" Moody was much more calm, possibly owing to his own impressive set of scars.

"Uh… you want me to explain it to you? Can I just tell you that none of it is a security concern and leave it at that?"

"I'm going to need more details than that, Potter. These are runes. I recognize a few… time, memory, a few numbers. Oh, a charging rune. That's why a _finite_ couldn't end that glamour."

"You didn't take runes back when you were in Hogwarts?"

"Didn't see the point. Too much sitting, not enough doing. Learned my lesson after I walked into a booby trap, but since then I've learned to recognize when to call a cursebreaker and when I can just blast straight through. Nothing here looks deadly, but I need to know exactly what this is," he said.

_I hope he's not bluffing,_ Harry thought. "Well… uh… it enhances my memory. It lets me… uh, relive a memory very quickly. That's… um… how I managed to learn so quickly over the summer." _Please, please, please believe it,_ he thought desperately.

"You _do_ know blood runes are illegal, don't you, Potter?" Moody said.

_Oh nuts,_ Harry thought. "You… _are_ going to follow your oaths not to mention anything about this if I'm not a threat to the tournament, right?" he challenged right away.

"I'll be the judge of that. Any good auror would put his foot down when he sees a breach of the law," Moody retorted.

"But you're not an auror any more," Harry said. That statement seemed to hit Moody harder than expected. The old auror's shoulders sagged for a bit as he seemed to stare past Harry, possibly reminiscing about old battles.

"No, boy… I guess I'm not. Thought getting out of the auror business would mean _less _restrictions and paperwork," he grunted bitterly. "But I'm keeping an eye on you. The path to dark magic begins with a few innocent steps… I'm always ready to trade spells with any up-and-coming Dark Lord as long as I live."

Knowing he'd only temporarily dodged a bullet, Harry scurried past an impatient Fleur as he left the room. Having lost the most photogenic champion, the press immediately descended upon Harry, blocking his path out of the Great Hall.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter! James Jannes, of _Wizard's International Sports Paper_. Is this exciting for you, to be chosen to represent your country in the Triwizard Tournament?"

Harry shook his head. "This isn't the first time I've been tossed into a strange and dangerous situation at school," he said.

"Dangerous? Are you saying that you've already faced things more dangerous than the Triwizard Tournament, where contestants in the past have been known to die in competition?"

"Am I going to have to defend myself from dementors in the Tournament?" Seeing the shocked look on the reporter's face, Harry smugly added, "I thought not."

"Andrea Anderson, _Daily Prophet_. How do you plan on preparing for the tournament, especially since you're the youngest contestant?"

"I've already started a student society where we teach each other and practice duelling, brewing, and a few other subjects," he explained. "I think we might add flying and Quidditch, too, since there's no Quidditch this year."

"You're turning to other students? You don't feel any professors can take credit for your achievements?"

Harry thought about for a while. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout were all good professors, and were actually quite exceptional at _not_ giving him special treatment as a student. The last head of house, however… "I think some credit goes to Professor Snape. He taught me that sometimes, learning on your own is much more effective than being taught by a professor. So I started the SNAPE Society, for students who want to learn how to brew potions properly. We expanded from there."

"Constance Girdleband, _Witch Weekly_. So, Harry, that French witch is quite the looker, don't you think?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just inform your readership that I'm already taken."

"Rita Skeeter…" Before she could even finish her introduction, Harry immediately drew his wand and had it pressed under her chin.

"If you write a single word about me, Skeeter, I will _crush you like an insect_." He stormed out of the hall, leaving the spectacled woman speechless as her quick-quotes quill skittered across the parchment.

* * *

Working on his new broom was a much-needed distraction for Harry. In classes and during SNAPES meetings, he was constantly being hounded by the other students, asking for even more help with their work or just offering congratulations. Since Snape had found out about his namesake club (through the newspapers, no less) he also began publicly denouncing Harry- which, of course, resulted in an immediate backlash for deriding the Hogwarts champion in the presence of other schools. Consequently, the number of students attending SNAPES doubled within a week, and Harry was leaving a very good impression on those who attended. Now the only free time he had was late evening, which he often spent in an abandoned tower (accessible only by flying, as the stairs had collapsed) to work on his pet project.

Dobby and Hagrid were immensely helpful, and the advice from Professor Vector was invaluable. Hagrid's many trips into the Forbidden Forest produced many fine samples of ash wood, a few of which he could quickly carve out to emulate his Firebolt's main shaft. Finding proper birch twigs for the bristles was difficult, though, because of the stringent length, thickness, and straightness requirements. Clearly, the broom company grew their own trees instead of harvesting random twigs from the forest.

Dobby, while bringing him snacks, found an obvious solution. "Can Harry Potter sir fly with feathers?" And not just any feathers- with the Beauxbatons visiting, Hagrid was taking care of the abraxans. The huge winged horses were at least twice as big as a hippogriff and their feathers were correspondingly larger and stronger. With a little modification to his design, he didn't even have to charm twigs for flight- the feathers were already magical in nature. It was so obvious that Harry wondered why no wizard had ever thought of it before.

The end result, as Ron succinctly put it, was ridiculous. "You're riding a giant feather duster."

Hermione reassuringly told Harry, "Well, if you think about it, it's no sillier than riding a broom."

"What are you talking about? Brooms are for flying!" Ron protested.

"And what do you use to clean the floors?" Hermione put dryly.

"Mops."

"As much as I love magic, wizards are just plain ridiculous. I still can't believe nobody thought of using feathers for flying," she said, shaking her head.

"Muggles are the ones that aren't making sense," Ron said defensively. "Those airy-plane contraptions just don't make sense. At least wood is solid. Riding a machine that's made of paper, really…"

"Airplanes aren't made of paper!" Hermione argued.

"Then what _are_ they made of?"

"Metal! Aluminium!"

"That's even more ridiculous! Metal? To fly? Now you're going to tell me that they make boats out of metal, too…"

"Uh… not to interrupt your argument, guys, but could you keep an eye on me while I go on my first flight with this thing? Just be ready to cast _Arresto Momentum_ if anything goes wrong," Harry cut in, seeing they'd never stop bickering if they were left to themselves.

The test runs scared Hermione witless, naturally. Harry had forgone cushioning, braking, stability, and even durability charms on his first try to keep things as simple as possible. For the first time since picking up a broom, Harry honestly felt that the broom was capable of more than he was and that he needed more training to be able to handle it, and he only had a few more days for fine-tuning until the Trial of Air.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I actually googled up numerology to see what kinds of things were associated with numbers. It seems like every website disagrees with every other one, so I figured I couldn't go wrong making things up.

- As far as I can figure, Moody probably doesn't know much cursebreaking of his own or else he'd be laying a lot more of his own unique traps instead of using off-the-shelf Sneakoscopes and Foe-glasses.


	53. The More Things Change

**Author's Notes:** JKR has plenty of time and the legal right to write more Harry Potter if she wants to.

- Sorry for the long delay. Promise I'm not abandoning this story, but school is a little more intense than I originally thought. Happy back to school everyone!

- random thought: How old was Regulus when he found out about Voldemort's horcrux, and how low-ranking was he? He was Sirius's younger brother, and probably still in school at the time, and no help from Dumbledore. He'd make a good "teen wizard detective" character/series, TBH.

* * *

**Chapter 53: The More Things Change…**

All eyes were on Harry as they waited in the champion's tent at the entrance to Corrieshalloch Gorge. Fleur had the same broom as last time- a Cloudrunner Hurricaine. Hers was a top-quality broom and the absolute opposite of his. She was definitely holding back her laughter as she eyed Harry's hand-made broom. Harry unconsciously started preening its feathers; not that it really helped.

Ivan wasn't much of a flier- too tall, too bulky, and holding a relatively underpowered Nimbus Two Thousand and Two. It may have been the best that the Nimbus company had to offer, but it was still no match for a Firebolt. That didn't stop him from smirking at Harry as well.

Neither of Harry's competitors said a word, though, as the judges were arguing over whether or not Harry's broom actually counted as a broom or not. Nobody in the wizarding world had ever seen anything like it. On one hand, it clearly was neither a flying carpet nor a muggle contraption, and it did have a shaft in the middle for someone to sit on. On the other hand… it had _feathers_.

"We'll allow this," the head referee declared. "But only because nobody's seen one of these before and if you squint really hard, there's not much of a difference between feathers and bristles. We'll have a final decision from the Department of Magical Sports and Games by this evening. For now, we can race!" Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Ludo Bagman then explained what was happening in the Trial of Air. Much like before, it was a combination of a race and aerial obstacle course, so Harry paid more attention to his broom than to Bagman. His ears perked up, though, when Bagman was explaining, "…golden egg from three particularly vicious griffinette dens. Don't let their size fool you… they attack in numbers and are just as dangerous as their full-size cousins."

"Wait, what about the zuu?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Oh… you know about that?" Bagman looked more embarrassed than surprised. "There was a slight… change of plans last week. We've decided to use more of the local wildlife, even if they are a little more challenging than what we had originally planned."

"In ozzer words, your own director of international relations being arrested eez not good for international relations," Fleur jabbed at Bagman. Harry recalled that the zuu was actually Persian beast. If that thing had been considered the "safe" alternative to griffinettes, then he didn't want to know how much more dangerous the race was this time. Fleur had enough trouble with the big bird last time, and if things were any harder, Harry suspected she might not be able to walk away from this event with an egg at all.

The other two champions stood at the starting line, looking extremely confident. _Ignorance is bliss,_ thought Harry. As Bagman's green flare erupted from his wand, Harry took an early lead as he shot from the starting line. Pressing his body low against the shaft, he gripped his broom with both hands as hard as he could, fighting to stay on under the extreme acceleration. He didn't bother looking back- Ivan was no match, he knew, and Fleur _might_ have a higher top speed, but she couldn't accelerate the way he did.

The first two obstacles were just as he remembered them. First, a net strung across the entire canyon- no need for a spell, as he kept low to the canyon floor and bypassed it completely. The maze-like pile of thick logs was the true test of his broom's manoeuvrability. Barely slowing down, Harry tucked his elbows and legs in and began dodging. This was exactly what he wanted out of his broom- the quick, jerking movements nearly threw him off the broom multiple times but wouldn't have been possible even with his Firebolt. Favouring a stronger grip instead of casting spells, Harry's adrenaline focused his vision into searching for the tiniest gaps of which he had milliseconds to react to at the speed he was moving at. Up, down, twist, left, ouch as he scraped his shoulder, right, flip, wince as he scraped a few feathers on a tight turn, left, down down up, and he was free!

His broom felt a little wobbly. With nobody else in sight, he could afford to slow down a little. Taking a peek at the back of his broom, he noticed one group of feathers was badly mangled and messing up his flight. Next time, he wouldn't skimp on the durability charms, but it was too late to fix that now. He ripped off the bundle of seven feathers and felt his broom stabilize. He didn't like having to sacrifice his top speed so early in the race, but there were no quick fixes for abraxian feathers.

A loud screech brought Harry's attention up front once again. He'd arrived at the harpy nests. The first few had already alerted others to his presence and they were getting ready to swarm him. He released his wand from his holster into his left hand as the first harpy launched itself at him, shrieking the whole way. Harry dodged, and nearly lost his grip. He cast a sticking charm on his right hand before trying to dodge again. _Probably should have spent more time flying this broom one-handed, _he realized. "_Ventascindo!"_ The blade of wind carved a path for him which he followed closely, but the spell also left a trail of turbulent air behind its path. Harry needed to get away from the harpies before Ivan and Fleur caught up, though. "_Ventascindo!"_ he cried again, retracting his wand and grasping the handle with both hands, fighting through the chaotic winds he created. That second spell gave him just enough leeway to dodge the last of the harpies, and he sped off.

After a long, easy cruise until he reached the narrow ravine. He expected Fleur to catch up fairly soon, as open-air flying was her strength. If he fought his way through the ravine one more time, she was sure to pass him. _Being first in an obstacle course sucks, _he thought. _I have to do all the work for them_. He eyed the many giant weaver webs that were strung across the area. Last time, Fleur had dealt with all of them herself- maybe Harry could do it too. A simple cutting charm would probably get the webs out of the way, and casting a deafening charm on himself would let him ignore the bats that roosted there.

A few slashes from his wand and spiders were dropping down left and right, though most of them were quickly scrambling back up the cliff face and ready to take vengeance on their attacker. Hermione had told him they were carnivorous, and often liquefied their prey alive with digestive venoms. Harry didn't want to stick around to find out. The bats, on the other hand, were assaulting him with their resonating screams, and his muffling charm was doing its job protecting his ears. However, that wasn't all they affected. His broom was starting to vibrate, along with the cliff face. A few loose pebbles were starting to pelt him, while a few loose feathers were falling off his broom. He made it out, though a little short on breath and feathers. The sound of the bats getting riled up again told him someone else was approaching- Fleur, most likely.

Harry decided to concentrate on the next obstacle, which his broom was nearly tailored for. The wind-buffeted stretch of the race was the one part Harry had been looking forward to. This time, instead of using smoke to show the way, he simply let the broom get pushed around and drifted wherever the air currents were sweeping him. He only made sure not to crash into the ground or fly out of bounds. It was very much like kayaking down white-water rapids- not that Harry had ever tried it before, but without fighting to stay in a straight line, his erratic flight path ended up being faster than a more direct route.

With one long straightaway to the griffinette nests, Harry expected Fleur to catch up at any moment- and she did. They arrived at almost the same moment, stopping about a hundred meters from the nests. Both of them spied three glinting gold eggs scattered around the cliffs. A hundred beady eyes were staring at them cautiously. "Zat was some impressive flying, Monsieur Potter. Would you like to go first?" Harry could feel a little bit of her veela aura nudging him into agreement.

Harry knew she just wanted use him as a distraction since she'd never want to charge in with that broom of hers. He didn't want to waste any more time, so he decided to play along. "Why, certainly, m'lady," he replied, putting on a dopey smile. He shot forward, quickly formulating a plan. He could probably take them on the same way he fought off the harpies. A sticking charm to his right hand and a wind-splitting hex towards the bolder beasts gave him a clear path towards the first egg... for two seconds. Harry tried again, but before he could get a spell off, one griffinette swooped in from the side and snapped at his arm. He had to cut his casting short and roll away just to keep his wand intact.

"Clever girl," Harry muttered, noticing that the beasts weren't attacking haphazardly like the harpies did. They regrouped and circled around him, no doubt preparing to assault from all directions at once. Clearly, they were more organized and intelligent- not to mention having twice as many claws. Where was Fleur? Harry thought he could turn the trap around on her, but she was nowhere to be found. As the first griffinette dive-bombed him, Harry swooped to the walls of the gorge and shot towards the egg on the far left, hugging the cliff face as he went. Now they could only attack from one side, and he could better protect his wand. He tucked in, casting cyclone and wind spells to disrupt his attackers while keeping the egg in sight.

Harry retracted his wand into his holster to snatch the egg up when the egg floated out of its nest. A slight shimmer told him everything he needed to know. Fleur, seeing Harry and two dozen griffinettes baring down on her, lost her composure for a second and dropped the egg. Perfect. Harry deliberately waited until the last second to change direction, buzzing by Fleur before dropping straight down to snatch it. A female scream followed by some birdlike shrieks told him the plan went perfectly.

Safely cushioning the egg just before it hit the ground, Harry breathed a sigh of relief for only an instant. A strong set of talons dug into his right shoulder. His flinch thankfully protected his head from the griffonette's beak. Trying to swat the animal away with his right hand, he forgot that it was still stuck to the broom and ended up flipping end-over-end. Luckily, that was enough to shake it off, but its friends were attacking as well.

Elbowing one away with his left hand as another dug its claws into his leg, Harry deliberately rammed himself into the rock face. He heard the slight crack of wood and noted his broom wasn't quite as solid as it was a moment ago. Without any free hands to cast spells, he resorted to tackling, kicking, and ramming the beasts as they continued to claw at him. As he put more distance between himself and the nests, most of them returned, though a few still decided to give chase. His broom was a little shaky and almost about to fall apart, but he couldn't slow down or his feathery friends would tear it to shreds.

He passed by Ivan as he approached the perpetually turbulent section of the race. The bulky boy smirked at Harry's ragged appearance and damaged broom, but Harry didn't mind. It just meant Ivan didn't know what he was in for. Thankfully, the crossing of paths meant the last of the griffinettes gave up the pursuit on Harry and switched over to Ivan. The rest of the flight was a hard fight, even though it was slower. The damage to the broom made it difficult to control. He didn't want to risk falling out of the sky, but the repair charm only barely kept the broom together. He moved through all the obstacles more carefully and disillusioned himself against the harpies, afraid that the slightest bump would cause everything to explode in a shower of wood chips and feathers. Despite his cautious pace, Fleur never managed to catch up at all throughout the race. Harry had expected her to take the lead eventually.

His feet touched ground and he was exhausted, bloody, and ready to collapse. When he let go of his broom, he could see the giant crack running along the shaft; the entire thing was held together by splinters. Almost three-quarters of the feather clusters had been damaged or ripped off completely. He could barely hear the cheers of the crowds. A supportive hand on his arm almost went unnoticed until he was dragged to the medical tent.

* * *

It took nearly an hour, but he walked out fully healed. Despite the massive injuries, they were all quickly healed with basic blood-replenishing and dittany potions, and some Skele-Gro to take care of hairline fractures. Harry wondered why nobody neither champion had returned yet. In the meantime, he decided to search for Sirius, Hermione and Ron in the crowds. He spotted them at one of the top boxes and climbed the stairs all the way up, his broom being in too poor a condition for him to risk the short flight.

"What'd I miss?" Harry asked.

"Hermione fainting," Ron chuckled.

"I did not!" she protested. "It just got so scary I had to close my eyes for a second. You weren't even paying attention!"

"Yes I was! I kept my eyes on the image the entire time!"

Sirius barked with laughter. "Only when Fleur being shown. I didn't know the veela aura could work through projected images." Ron turned beet red with that comment, but Sirius ignored it. "You remind me of James more and more, Harry. Especially after he started dating Lily. He toned down the stupid pranks but he stayed… competitive in Quidditch. Maybe a little too much for Lily's tastes. I think you've set the Potter family record for the craziest stunts in the air."

"Yeah, it was a little iffy out there," Harry admitted.

"Iffy? You call flying on a broken stick for more than fifty kilometres a _little_ iffy? Let me see that broom," she said, snatching it out of his hands. The simple motion caused it to creak. "Harry, this thing isn't even straight any more. I can't believe you managed to convince me this was a good idea."

"I wouldn't have believed him if he told me he outgrew my Christmas present in a year. But after seeing him fly… well, I think it was worth it."

"It was a good learning experience," Harry laughed. "I've already got a list of improvements in my head."

"You know, Harry, aside from the… quality issues, you could do pretty well selling those brooms," Sirius suggested. "I know the Black family name isn't quite what it used to be, but our family has always meant business. Your showing here is pretty amazing, I mean, that Ivan fellow is only just arriving with his Nimbus 2002."

He pointed up at the projected image, where the Durmstrang champion was finally passing through the maze of logs. Fleur was right beside him, strangely enough. It looked like they weren't trying to pass each other, though- and each still had their wands in hand, casting spell after spell behind them. Both were looking even worse than Harry had been, with scratches and bite marks all over.

"What are they doing?" Harry asked. "Are they working together? Is that even allowed?"

"It was the only way either of them could get the eggs," Sirius answered. "And boy, those things are _vicious_. I think it would have been easier to wrestle a gryphon than a pack of griffinettes. I can keep track of four big claws, forty is a bit tougher."

"Statistically, the annual number of deaths by griffinettes is about three times higher than by gryphons, according to the Malicious Magical Monsters Fact Book_._ It could be because they're deceptively cute."

"I'll never make that mistake," Harry declared. "Is that… did they _follow_ them the entire way here?" He pointed as a flock of griffinettes emerged from the maze, just behind the other champions.

"Yeah, they've been following the two of them. Both their brooms are broken, and they're moving slowly, but as long as they stick together they can hold them off. Neither of them wants to try to pull ahead… not yet, at least," Sirius answered.

"Ivan and Fleur managed to destroy most of their nests in the process of trying to get the golden eggs. I think they're out for revenge," Hermione added.

"Are you sure they won't start attacking the spectators when they get here?" Harry pointed out.

"Nah, the organizers of the tournament can't be _that_ incompetent," Sirius reassured them. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and drew their wands. Fleur and Ivan would both be rounding the final bend any second now.

Both of them abandoned their attempts to fight off the griffinettes with teamwork as they came into sight and pushed their brooms to get the lead. Ivan was still casting, while Fleur decided to just concentrate on flying as fast as possible. Her decision cost her, though, as one of the animals snagged her bristles, causing her to veer dangerously. Her broom, heavily damaged and rapidly losing its floatation charm, was falling apart. "She's not going to make it," Harry breathed out.

"She'll be fine," Sirius waved him off, his eyes fixed on the racers.

"As long as the mediwitches can get to her in time, you mean," Hermione said. "You should be more worried about everyone else. I don't think tournament security was prepared for more than three living things crossing the finish line."

Surely enough, Fleur skidded into the ground just past the finish after Ivan, but well over fifty griffinettes were now trying to claw at the champions. The security wizards, more used to keeping unruly crowds in line, didn't know how to deal with the flock of angry bird-lion hybrids. Moody, being head of security, was equally unprepared for the prospect of fighting non-humans.

"So… should we… help them?"

Ron, on the other hand, was already leaping down the stairs. Harry and Hermione had no choice but to follow. "Oi! You keep your filthy claws off her!" he shouted, casting stunning spells haphazardly into the fray. Perhaps the veela charm still worked when she was unconscious, too. Unfortunately for him, one of his spells zipped a little too close to Mad-Eye's cheek. The old man was just hitting his stride again, and the spell made him instinctively whip off a bone-removal curse at Ron, striking the boy in his arm. Ron collapsed in surprise as his arm flopped down like a rubber glove.

"You're in for one disgusting recovery, Ron," Harry said once he caught up. "At least it was a competent professor that did it to you."

"You kids always put yourselves in messes like this?" Moody growled behind them. "Jumping into a fight just means you're going to get hurt. Think about that while you sip your Skele-Gro for the next few days." The flock was being scared back towards their home by the security team, who now had the situation under control.

"What am I doing down here?" Ron asked, coming to his senses as Fleur was now safely tucked away inside the medical tent. "Oh bugger all, I've made a fool of myself again because of the veela, haven't I?"

"Her name's Fleur. You _could_ try blocking it out, you know. Like Moody. Or me." Harry couldn't fault Ron for it too much, though. Upon closer review, most of the security team hadn't positioned themselves to protect the general public, but to defend one silvery-haired champion. "I'm going to go talk to the other two champions for a bit. Maybe I could put in a good word for you."

"You'd do that for me?" Ron's eyes lit up with hope.

_I'll eat my wand if Fleur ever willingly dates Ron. Might be funny to watch, though,_ Harry thought. He just waved nonchalantly to his friends before poking his head into the tent. "How are you two doing?"

Ivan only snarled angrily in reply. Harry turned to Fleur instead, who was regarding him angrily, but respectfully. "You pulled some very dirty treeks during ze race, Monsier Potter. You are unlike ze 'ero my sister reads about."

Harry only laughed. "I'm afraid you're going to have to do more than read storybooks to know what you're up against."

"So you're not a dragon-hunter, slayer of dark lords, or protector of young children?"

"No, yes, and not yet."

"Can I add inventor to zat? Your broom was… intriguing."

"I guess so. I don't really spend time thinking up inventions, though. I only made it because my old broom wasn't performing as well as I liked."

"And what broom was zat?"

"Firebolt."

Fleur nearly spat out the potion she was drinking. "I suppose you will be a professional Quidditch player when you finish school, non? It is good to 'ave your life laid out for you."

"Nah. I'm not sure if it's a good use of my time." He wasn't entirely put off by the idea. He was already a celebrity, but becoming even more influential through Quidditch fame could get more things accomplished… like exposing Voldemort to the public and forcing people to take action against him.

"You could easily be ze greatest star in all of Quidditch wiz your skills. You could comfortably retire at ze age of thirty… and you would turn that down?" Fleur asked cautiously. "Ze more I talk to you, ze less I seem to know."

"I'm sure I could be," Harry said. "But what about you? You could easily be a successful fashion model for Witch Weekly… or, dare I say it, you could just charm some rich old fool. But you don't want that, do you?"

Fleur gave him an understanding nod. "I see. Fame alone is nothing to you, is it?"

"Not unless I can do something with it. I can't change the world if I'm too busy playing games."

Ivan, who was apparently listening in on their conversation, finally piped up. "And the tournament. Is this just a game to you?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right. Someone else entered my name. I certainly didn't. I have other things to take care of… tutoring other students, training, learning. This tournament is getting in the way of that, to be honest."

"So you don't care if you win? Why do you try at all?" Fleur asked.

"Oh, it's good training. It's not so much about winning the tournament, as much as it is about proving to myself that I'm strong enough to face a few challenges. I won't be going easy on you two." For the first time since his name was drawn, the two older champions took him as a serious threat. To Harry, he knew the tournament was rather limited in its usefulness. If he had to do this another time, it would be less and less useful to developing his general skill levels. For now, it still offered some challenges to him despite his advance knowledge. Beating his competition would just happen to be a side effect of doing very well.

* * *

Back at school the next day, Harry was lauded as a hero. Being labelled the underdog for the past month, everyone had low expectations of the British champion. The seemingly come-from-behind win that Harry achieved lifted the spirits of not only Hogwarts, but all of magical Britain as well. He held an even more commanding lead than last time in the scoreboards, due to a slight scoring change with only three champions. Some over-enthusiastic fans were already declaring victory, despite having six more trials and the final task to get through. Still, there was not a bad word to be said about him, and nothing proved it more than when the Slytherins came to shake hands with him, lead by Blaise.

"Potter. I think you've truly proven yourself as a champion today. I think if Malfoy were still here, he'd be doing something to try to steal your glory, but since he isn't, we're here to extend our support. If there's anything the Slytherin house can do to help, just ask." The dark-skinned boy seemed to be genuinely interested in helping. Probably with an ulterior motive like getting into the good graces of the already-famous Harry Potter, of course, but he wasn't hiding that. Harry had noticed him networking with the foreign students fairly often as well. He wondered if Draco would have ever done something like this, but brushed that thought away. Draco was always interested in being handed power, like his two gooneys, not working to earn his way up like Blaise was doing now. Harry could actually learn something or two from this boy.

Their hands met and shook with a firm grip. There was no animosity, nor veiled threat like the way Marcus Flint had shaken during Quidditch games. It was simply starting a good business deal, and Harry had a proposal to make. "So, there _is_ something I could use your help with," he said. "All of you. Two things, actually."

"Go on."

"First, I'm inviting you to join SNAPE Society. Hermione and I started it to teach some of our skills to other students, but we found everyone has some expertise that others could learn from- everything from potions to housekeeping charms to cooking. It's been growing quite rapidly and, quite frankly, I think it's everyone's loss by leaving a quarter of the school population. What do you say?"

"Well, I'd be delighted, Mr. Potter," Daphne Greengrass said, extending her hand out, palm down.

For a second, Harry was dumbfounded. He was about to take her hand to shake it, when Blaise laughed and stopped him. "You're supposed to kiss it." Feeling slightly embarrassed, Harry took her hand and bent over like in the shows he spied on the telly, kissing her hand lightly.

"And your lips aren't actually supposed to touch my hand," Daphne sighed. "It looks like I could host a class on proper formal etiquette. No boy from Hogwarts has any chance of impressing a girl from Beauxbatons without it. Let's just hope you haven't all made fools of yourselves already."

"Where do we meet?"

"The next meeting is tomorrow afternoon, up on the seventh floor near the tapestry with the dancing trolls. The subject is going to be beginner's duelling."

Blaise and most of the other boys nodded approvingly. "And you mentioned a second request, Harry?"

"Yeah, get your head of house to stop looking at me like that," he said, nodding over at the staff table. While all the other staff were amused and hopeful about the newfound friendship between former enemies, Snape naturally disapproved of all things Potter.

"We can try… but no guarantees. What did you _do_ to him, anyway, Potter? It's like he goes out of his way to hate you. Did you insult his mother or something?"

"I really don't know. If you could find _that_ out, too, it'd be great."

* * *

The Room of Requirement seemed to know in advance that there would be more people coming, and Harry walked into a slightly larger space than usual. It filled up quickly with the usual members, but Harry spied about ten faces he'd never seen before. He realized that his entire experience with the Slytherin house had been tainted by Malfoy and Snape; the rest were as unknown to him as many of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had been a few weeks ago. More pertinently, he noticed that nearly all of the Slytherins he knew the names of, like Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, and Malfoy weren't present. The only ones he did know were Zabini and Greengrass.

"I can't believe you're doing this, mate. We had such a big advantage over the competition and you let them in on it?" Ron expressed his disapproval in a low voice.

"School's not about the competition, Ron," Harry answered. Hermione gave him a strange look. "Okay, fine, it _is_ a competition for some people, but it's not about whether or not you can beat someone in a duel." A few people overheard him and now had their eyes on him questioningly. Harry sighed. "Okay, yes, I _do_ have to get through a few duels, but what I'm trying to say is that there's more to life than just school and spellwork, alright? Meet new people, see the world, and all that jazz. Who knows, you might even meet the love of your life somewhere in there."

Ron snorted. "Not bloody likely."

"Just give it a try, will you?"

With all the new students, Harry decided to use the class to review their skills and gauge where the Slytherins stood. Secretly, he also wanted to know if he could consistently beat Cedric, since the duels were coming up, but he wasn't sure if Cedric had been training more intensely when he had been a champion. He wondered if the Slytherins had anything to teach him… but duelling seemed to be more of a Gryffindor interest, he had to admit.

The rest of the hour revealed no surprises. Naturally, some were uneasy with working with the house of snakes, but people kept their tempers in check when they saw that Harry was fine with teaching them. Everyone was progressing nicely; Harry himself was still able to get some good practice against the seventh-years. When it ended, Blaise had a satisfied smile on his face. "That was more civilized than I expected, Mr. Potter."

"Glad to hear that. I was actually afraid of a few real fights breaking out myself. Did you learn anything?"

"Yes, actually. Most importantly, the fact that our chances of winning the tournament are actually quite high. Do you know how often Professor Snape calls you a self-centered, unskilled, brat? Most of the house believes him. You're lucky I prefer not to let others lead me blind."

Tracey Davis stepped in, still a little out of breath from the intense magical workout that she wasn't used to. "You really _do_ know your stuff, Potter. You pretty much proved our head of house wrong in only an hour."

Daphne was straightening her hair as she approached them, having clearly not worked as hard as her friend this past hour. Harry suspected she didn't want to show off all her skills- or maybe she just didn't enjoy getting sweaty. "Yes, if my father had heard someone saying something like that about me, he'd probably challenge them to an honour duel."

"Oh, I'd like that," Harry replied. "Hey, Hermione, are honour duels actually allowed at Hogwarts?"

Hermione just raised an eyebrow and frowned.

Daphne gawked at him. "I was only joking, Potter. Dear Merlin, you think for a second that a Gryffindor actually has brains…"

"Hey, it's not like I'm trying to take on Dumbledore, here," Harry said, as if it were a legitimate excuse. He had to stop himself and wonder- did he really have what it took to take on Snape? He'd never seen Snape in action, although he _did_ know the man served Voldemort at one point- and was unlikely to be a pushover based on that alone. Then again, if he couldn't beat Snape, he didn't have a chance against Voldemort. "You know what? I'd like to face him."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't bet on it, Potter."

"I would! I'll wager a year's subscription of the Quibbler for the winner!" Harry didn't have to turn around to know who that was.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he sighed. "I'll wear radish earrings for a year if I _do_ lose to him." Luna's support actually convinced him that it was a silly idea after all. There was no need to stir up another hornet's nest so soon.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I hope the Trial of Air wasn't too much of a repeat of last time. As is the problem with time loop stories, things get boring fast if it's all the same, but then there's not much of a point of doing a time loop if a few familiar things don't happen. Trying to find a good balance.

- One reason I've made Harry good enough to exceed the Firebolt is mostly because he's invincible on a broom in canon. Barring interference, like a charmed bludger or dementors, Harry just can't lose in Quidditch. Funny how he didn't do any real flying in the last book; it was his one thing he could win on skill instead of luck.


	54. Assumptions and Appearances

**Author's Notes: **JK Rowling wasn't in school while writing a book. Lucky her.

- Sorry for the _reaaaaally_ slow update. School's even more intense than I thought it would be.

- Over 2500 reviews, almost a year old, and almost a million views. yay! thanks for enjoying my story!

- I finally watched Deathly Hallows Part 2. Good movie. Honestly, I think it's better than the book- they removed scenes I didn't like and added scenes I did like. And changed a few things that were just plain dumb (Harry talking Voldemort to death, for example, or NOT destroying the elder wand). Ron/Hermione works better, with all the little bits of "understanding" they have for each other sprinkled everywhere in the last two films that the books didn't have. Also, Ron is a better person mostly by omission of details (hint hint storyid:7336803)

* * *

**Chapter 54: Assumptions and Appearances Can Be Deceiving**

Leaning heavily into the armrests of his office chair, Dumbledore pressed his lengthy beard into his palm and sighed. He peered over the top of his glasses to meet Alastor eye-to-eye, but was silenced before he could speak a word.

"You may have my loyalty, Albus, but I still have my honour. Not to mention that little contract getting in the way. He's fine for now. Borderline, but I can't act until I can report a viable threat."

"Perhaps not to the tournament, but he could very well be a threat to the school. I recall a crafty, young boy I taught ages ago who hid some dark ideas behind a charismatic façade."

"If he weren't one of the champions, I could have half a dozen of the security team questioning him on a whim. But I can't. The system was designed to protect the champions and the tournament from interference, not allow me to interfere with them." Moody tapped his wand on the stack of parchment on the desk, and two dozen sheets flew out. "That's the relevant section regarding the home-team champion, if you'd care to read it."

Dumbledore made the sheets file themselves back into their proper place. "No, I trust you've done all in your power, Alastor. For now, we have to assume that this is the genuine Harry Potter. What we need to know now is what caused him to change so dramatically, and so secretly, over the summer." He rose from his seat, stroking his beard straight again as he walked over to the fireplace and inspected the silvery trinkets that spun, bobbed, and puffed.

"How can you be sure that he's changed at all? Maybe he's just decided to show his hand. Or perhaps you're losing your edge. You need to rein him in. He's taking advantage of every benefit being a champion has to offer- especially access to the Restricted Section. He's practically devouring books, from what I hear."

Dumbledore smiled wisely. "Alastor, you'll find I still have a trick or two under my cap. The most dangerous books have been removed from the school completely. The Board of Governors may not be happy, but I believe I can still keep Hogwarts under control."

"Except you were nearly tossed out two years ago," Moody pointed out. "And Malfoy's been at your throat a little more than usual lately. Anything I should know?"

"No, nothing that relates to the school. He is being the usual… thorn in my side, even though he seems to be acting a little more rashly than usual. Perhaps this is the chance the auror department has been hoping for all these years?" He hummed a bright tune as he opened the door. "That's all for today, Alastor. Now I have a meeting with the other headmasters."

After Moody hobbled out of the room, Dumbledore's humming stopped. _Losing my edge?_ The troubling suggestion gnawed at him. He'd been so used to being in control. He almost always got what he wanted, and when he didn't he could see it from miles away to minimize his losses. Luck had never been on his side, but planning had been. The very idea that a teenage boy could outwit him was… well, he wanted to say impossible, but it had happened once before. It was… improbable, he relented. And improbable meant possible. He considered himself skilled at judging others, finding the hollows of people's lives and placing himself in them. For Fudge, it was a shield from political ridicule. For Moody, it was the cavalry to back him up. For Harry, it was the lack of a parental figure. Or so he thought.

Maybe he wasn't losing his edge- but instead, worthy opponents only came by once every few decades. He looked at the clock. The "meeting" hand was still half an hour away. Perhaps it was time to observe the star pupil of Hogwarts a little more closely.

* * *

Dumbledore made his way to the former chamber-pot room, which had now reformed itself once again. This was another mystery he had to solve. He knew the room could shift in and out of existence- that was actually common knowledge among the student populace this year. And all sources pointed to Harry as the only one who could summon it on a whim. Where did he get the knowledge? Continuing further, he stepped into the adjacent room and locked the door with a few privacy spells.

Dumbledore cast a spying charm on the wall, but it revealed nothing but more stone. He then cast a more difficult variant of the spell, but was now facing velvet curtains instead. He sighed. Sometimes he could swear the school was not only sentient, but had a sense of humour. "_Photon neclegia Triopstructio," _he incanted. The third level of the spell was difficult enough that even he had trouble performing it silently.

He was looking at a parlour. And Harry Potter was sitting at a table with Daphne Greengrass, Hermione Granger, and Cedric Diggory. Somehow, he'd expected something a little more sinister from the boy's secretive and cold new attitude towards him. Tea-time with Slytherins and Hufflepuffs wasn't his idea of suspicious. Was Harry trying to make connections to some of the older pureblood families? At least he wasn't being too exclusive about it, Dumbledore noted as Harry made formal introductions to Neville Longbottom, despite having been on friendly terms with him for years. Even the Lovegood girl was there. In fact, nearly every pureblood in the school was at that meeting, save for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Clearly, this was an attempt at networking.

But what was Miss Granger doing there? She was intelligent and had a strong work ethic, but as many Ravenclaws would attest to, high marks alone don't get you very far in life. Being a muggleborn meant no established name to rely on within British wizarding world. Although her peers may respect her grades, their parents wouldn't let her get very far. And while her muggle family had respectable careers and a comfortable level of income, they wouldn't be considered rich. If the rumours were true, however, then Harry could forcibly place Hermione into pureblood circles- through marriage.

_Perhaps he's young and rash, just like his father,_ Dumbledore considered. _But his attitude and actions over the summer were far too deliberate. He has a plan._ But the thought of marriage at the young age of fourteen was ridiculous. No fourteen-year-old contemplates marriage; at least, not seriously. Harry could barely comprehend gaining a loving family member six months ago.

Dumbledore's wand chirped to remind him of the Triwizard meeting he had to attend. The benefit of being able to apparate within Hogwarts, unfortunately, deprived him of seeing the real reason for the afternoon tea-session walking down the hall.

* * *

Karkaroff slammed his fist on the table. "Watch the orb again!" he demanded. "He must have been cheating. Nobody can fly like that with two weeks' preparation time."

"On the contrary, Igor. Harry has been the star seeker of the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup. He has been a natural flier ever since the first time he mounted a broom," Dumbledore explained.

"I agree. Mr. Potter simply had a spectacular performance," Ludo Bagman exclaimed enthusiastically. "The Goblet of Fire certainly didn't find anything wrong with it.

"You don't even understand 'ow ze goblet works. Its original scrolls 'ave been lost to time," Madame Maxime said, setting the orb to show the moment Harry led the griffinettes to Fleur. "Right 'ere. 'ow can any 'uman perform zis move?"

"That's right! The only person who could manage that was my own former student, Viktor Krum!"

"So you admit that it is humanly possible? Right, let's move on then," Bagman said dismissively, setting off tempers all around the room.

Fredrick Frenemis, the new head of Magical Cooperation, couldn't do anything to calm down the angry officials. Every attempt to defend the English officials' decisions only furthered the dispute, while every attempt at placating the foreigners was met with silent glares accusing him of treason. The discussion quickly devolved into an argument.

A strange thing happened over the next hour, one which Dumbledore had seen too often at the Wizengamot. With blame flying every which way and excuses being equally frequent, everybody began to forget what had really happened at the Trial of Air. Maxime claimed the event was too dependent on equipment. Karkaroff brushed off the flying as Ivan's weakest skill. Both claimed Harry should have been disqualified by his broom, although the referees vigorously defended their decision. The officials, in turn, blamed Frenemis for failing to strike a deal with the Persians for the zuu. Dumbledore tried to keep everyone on track, but short of obliviating the whole room, it was an exercise in futility. As everyone's voices were getting hoarse, Frenemis finally made a suggestion just crazy enough to agree to. "Well, even if all of you think Harry Potter has had extra time to prepare, it can only take you so far. If we simply made the events more difficult, then the less-skilled wizard will never be able to keep up, no matter how much extra time they have. If we change the events, then any advance knowledge would be useless as well."

"No, the events are dangerous enough as it is," Dumbledore began to say, but he was quickly overwhelmed by the cries of agreement from the others.

"Yes, the change in events will mean that any leaked plans will be meaningless. It is the fairest way to do this!" Karkaroff shouted gleefully. "Where shall we begin?"

"Well, there's no need to change any of the Trials of Champions," Bagman said. "That's direct champion-to-champion combat. We can let them all know about those immediately. The preparations for the Trial of Water has already been finalized, so that means that we can still make some alterations to the Trials of Earth and Fire."

"Good. Golems were nothing more than posturing for the audience. Perhaps some Arrakadian Sandworms would provide an actual challenge?"

"I'll contact the North African reserves right away," Frenemis said, jumping at the chance to look useful. Dumbledore held him back.

"Perhaps we can wait until after duels next week?" he suggested. "Then we can truly see if Mr. Potter had won the Trial of Air through his own skill. If he can best your champions in a duel, then you will admit that he won the first trial through his own skill, correct? There's no need to make things more dangerous so quickly." Truthfully, he didn't believe the changes would matter; he was more concerned with making the Tournament even more of a mess than it already was. The Ministry had wanted a way to boost morale of the country, especially after the Sirius Black fiasco, and somehow landed on the idea of reviving a centuries-old tournament around last Christmas. It was hard enough organizing the whole thing with only seven months' planning, re-organizing it while it was already under way would increase his workload so much that any hopes of keeping tabs on Harry Potter may as well be tossed out the top of the astronomy tower.

"But zen if 'e loses ze duels, you will accept zat we must make ze events 'arder to… leave ze weak behind, oui?"

"Get those sandworms ready," Karkaroff said gruffly to the young Magical Co-operation head. He held out his wand and tapped a blank Triwizard Tournament parchment. A succinct contract wrote itself out.

"We, the undersigned officiating persons of the ninety-ninth Triwizard Tournament, agree to alter the Trials of Fire and Earth and the Final Task due to a breach of security. The difficulty of those events will be increased should the Hogwarts Champion, Harry Potter, receive the lowest score in first Trial of Champions…" Dumbledore read aloud. "We need to make room for a few exceptions. There's too much at risk if a simple mishap…"

"You and your exceptions. You're too soft, Dumbledore, and that's your problem. I hear discipline at Hogwarts is… an issue. Students learn best when they suffer a little," Karkaroff sneered. "Just sign the damned parchment."

* * *

Dumbledore wasted no time after the meeting tracing his last steps with Harry Potter. If this was an imposter, then he desperately needed to find the real Harry, and the other champions could be at risk. If not… then the boy was even more sly and cunning than Tom Riddle had been. The prophecy rang in his head again. _…mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…_ He was forced to reconsider a few assumptions. The latter part of the prophecy convinced him Harry, but it had been vague about what equality truly meant. …_defeat his nemesis…_ he originally thought that meant Voldemort had to defeat Harry, since the boy seemed to be nothing exceptional, but that may not have been the right interpretation.

All three instances where Harry had met with the dark lord, Dumbledore only arrived to see the aftermath. He could only guess what happened at Godric's Hollow. With the death of Quirinus, he knew Harry had already managed to defeat an adult wizard, without any useful magical skills. It was quite a stretch, but he'd told Harry that it was simply the power of love that could burn a man's body to ashes and banish a ghost. He convinced an impressionable eleven-year-old… or perhaps not. Maybe Harry had known all along what his own powers were, and had been playing his headmaster the fool. Was it so hard to believe? The eleven-year-old Tom was sly and manipulative, paying lip service to Dumbledore while cozying up to the other professors. With a prophecy calling them equals, was it so unrealistic to think that Harry Potter could do the same, but better? To intentionally sort himself into Gryffindor even as the hat wanted to place him in Slytherin, to simply be a good enough actor to fool Dumbledore himself?

Harry's second year was probably the key. The boy had spent hours down in the Chamber of Secrets with no witnesses. Ron Weasley was left behind, trapped by rubble. Ginny Weasley was unconscious for the entire affair. Harry was alone, with the spirit of Voldemort. What words were exchanged, he would never know. True, he could resort to legilimency, but that would be wildly inappropriate for a man of his position. Perhaps if he convinced Severus to do it instead, but that would mean he had to depend on Severus's reporting, which was notoriously inaccurate whenever it involved a Potter.

He decided that the Chamber of Secrets would be the ideal place to begin his investigations. There was nothing left of the diary, even though it had been powerful enough to enslave the youngest Weasley. Some of that power may have entered Harry. Now, although the entrance had been revealed to him, he still needed to figure out how to open it without enlisting either of the only two parselmouths he knew of.

"I presume you are here to investigate the chamber, Mugwump Dumbledore? I'm afraid it is currently occupied at the moment." Dumbledore was jerked away from his thoughts and found himself facing a gaunt man with only one eyebrow. "Mr. Potter prefers to work alone, as he tells me."

"Ah, Mr. Fleming. I didn't know you were going to be on the premises today. I thought your tutoring sessions were only for Mondays and Thursdays." Dumbledore took another step towards the door, but Fleming sidled over to block him.

"I wouldn't presume to tell you where you may go in your own school, Mugwump Dumbledore, but I would ask you to respect the privacy of my client." He gave the headmaster a knowing grin. "After all, everybody likes to keep their secrets, don't they?"

"I'm afraid that I haven't got much time. If you please," Dumbledore said firmly as he pushed open the door. _So Harry has been visiting the chamber regularly. I should have sealed off the place permanently. At least this way I may be able to see what he's up to._

"I'll tell him to expect you," Myrtle's ghost smiled sweetly, curtseying just before disappearing down below the sinks.

"I know what you're thinking. Personally I rather like the change," Fleming said. "I've never met a ghost that was affected by potions, either, but I think it may be due to her affinity with water. Perhaps we can discuss the implications another time."

Realizing that the surprise had cost him precious seconds, Dumbledore descended to the sewer chambers without a reply. As he continued onward, he realized that it was much cleaner than how Harry had first described it. There was now a simple walkway that rose above the water, and the entire path was lighted by bluebell-flamed torches. Walls that must have been covered in slime and mould had been cleaned, although Argus could still use a dozen students in detention to scrub it some more. His brisk pace led him to the vault-like door guarded by metallic serpents… just as it was closing.

"Hello, Headmaster! I heard you came to see me. Would you like to walk with us back upstairs?" Harry stood in front of the door, alongside Hermione and Myrtle. He had a rucksack slung over his shoulder, as did Hermione. Again, the ghost was very unlike her usual sobbing self.

_Tom himself did manage to charm the Grey Lady… although I have to wonder why Harry would bother with Myrtle_, Dumbledore thought. "Hello, Harry. I see you've made a few improvements to this place," he said, waving his wand, reinforcing and smoothing out the makeshift walkway. He saw the boy nod but quickly break eye contact. Moody had noted that his occlumency was unusually well-practiced, regardless of his age.

"Well, it's been a hobby of mine to come down here," Harry said casually. "But it's still rather dangerous for the other students. Maybe I can clean it up by next year so they can visit it?"

"It's a part of Hogwarts' history, after all," Hermione added.

"A noble idea. But I am concerned about _your_ safety. Perhaps you should leave the clean-up to the staff…"

"Nobody on staff speaks Parseltongue, as far as I'm aware," Harry said.

"Adult supervision is still necessary, Harry. You could ask for an escort at the very least, even if you are the only one that can deactivate any traps."

"Master Fleming usually comes down here with us. He's quite the competent wizard, I can assure you."

Dumbledore sighed. He could already tell that any suggestions that they take Severus as an escort instead would only antagonize him further. "Could you permit me to come down and help you get it done faster, then? I'd like to inspect the interior of the chamber, just to be safe."

He caught the split-second hesitation from Harry before the boy replied, "No, I'd rather not. I consider this a personal hobby between me and Hermione. Maybe if I have trouble finishing this by the end of the year, I'll ask for some help." Well, there was no hiding it now. The boy was definitely using the Chamber of Secrets for something. There wasn't any need to push further and take the risk of pushing Harry into eradicating evidence, though.

"By the way, Harry, would you deign to let me know what it is you're doing with those satchels?" Dumbledore asked as the approached the entrance.

"Making good use of a deadly corpse," Harry said, swinging it off his shoulder.

"Here's the basilisk skin you wanted, Master," Hermione said as Mr. Fleming came into view. She'd unbuckled her bag and pulled out a heavy, rolled sheet of raw hide.

"Excellent. We'll start on the tanning potions tomorrow to make the best use of this," Fleming said.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Mr. Fleming. Why do you have my students you 'Master?' As I understood it, you are simply a potions tutor," Dumbledore asked as he watched their exchange.

"That's still the standard title for the one who is directing their apprenticeship, is it not? As of several hours ago, they are officially my apprentices, and I am their master."

Tanned basilisk leather generally meant only one thing- magical armour. The last time any had been seen was the Wizarding World War several hundred years ago. Perhaps Harry _was_ cheating at the Tournament and was already preparing for the second Trial of Champions… but something of this expense more likely meant he was preparing for something far deadlier.

* * *

December snuck up on Dumbledore much the same way that a dragon could sneak up on a kneazle with a ball of yarn. Being highly distracted by the Barty Crouch case in Wizengamot, an international tournament at Hogwarts, and one pesteringly persistent Greek ambassador in the ICW meetings, the calendar pounced on him. Above all else, his investigation into Harry was running him in circles. The facts told him the boy was planning something. The books told him that everything the boy did was legal. The staff and students told him Harry was every bit the Boy-Who-Lived. His gut told him the boy was planning to follow in Tom Riddle's footsteps.

All the while, Harry had been wary of him. In fact, he suspected Harry had already begun avoiding him before the school year started. He'd hoped the boy's attitude at Peter Pettigrew's trial was only due to being in a foul mood from Bill Weasley's death, but it was quite clear now that Harry's attitude was permanent. Every so often he would hope to catch a glimpse of Harry's true power, perhaps one that he supposedly had over Voldemort. Harry never pushed himself beyond what was needed for his classes, though. True, a fourteen-year-old keeping up with sixth-year classes was fairly impressive already, but _above average_ simply wasn't what he was looking for. Helping Hagrid tend to the flock of abraxians, having tea with Slytherins, and learning to brew potions- Harry seemed to be very careful to not cast spells in public ever since he was chosen as champion. Modesty could be a good trait. Deception could be very bad.

That was the reason why Dumbledore welcomed the first Trial of Champions with more relief than he expected of himself. This one event in which Harry was forced to participate, could reveal more about the boy than the past month of rumour and hearsay. _Finally, I will see where the boy's strengths lie. If Harry is straying down Voldemort's path, then he won't let his pride suffer a humiliating defeat in front of an audience,_ he concluded. _Tom Riddle kept his head low at school, but he could never turn away from an insult._

"You remember our bet, Dumbly-door?" Madam Maxime said as he passed by.

"Of course, I think we will all be pleasantly surprised by what each of our champions are capable of," Dumbledore replied.

"The bet was a silly idea..." Karkaroff muttered.

"Oh? What happened to your eagerness to make the bet? I certainly hope you haven't lost faith in Ivan," Dumbledore said kindly.

"No, I have simply lost all faith in yours. I hear your boy was already preparing some armour even before our last meeting was adjourned- serpenthide of some kind? It's quite clear your so-called 'champion' is a cheater," Karkaroff said. "No matter. The boy will lose to Ivan easily. The bet rests on your champion, Maxime."

"Fleur? She eez leagues above Ivan. Must I remind you of ze current standings?"

"Her best event against Ivan's worst. The tides will turn rather quickly, you shall see. Durmstrang prides itself on duelling… and Ivan is no slouch."

Dumbledore felt frustrated that he always heard rumours of Harry's prowess but never witnessed it this year. Again, he questioned the boy's motivations- he clearly didn't intend to be picked as champion, but as soon as he had, he began to hide his strengths. Maybe he was simply being paranoid- Harry could simply be keeping his competition in the dark. It would be nice to know how Harry gained foreknowledge of the events, but that was probably Ludo Bagman, trying to make a few extra galleons betting on the home representative.

That very same Mr. Bagman stepped up to the podium to announce the beginning of the duels. Fleur and Harry stepped out of the champion's tent, waving to the audience. Fleur was confidently striding ahead; Harry was extremely focused and ignoring the audience.

"Your boy seems to lack ze confidence befitting a champion," Maxime gloated.

"Harry has never been one to show off," Dumbledore responded.

"You mean 'e shows off in subtler ways. 'e 'as chosen to go through ze entire tournament using 'is off-hand wand." Surely enough, the referees rolled up Harry's right sleeve to ensure he wasn't hiding his holly wand in his right sleeve before he released his rowan wand from his holster.

The duel seemed to start off with a dance, of all things. Harry kept light on his feet, circling around the oval while Fleur did the same, each matching the other's movements while concentrating on the defensive. Time-delayed spells and traps were laid down by Harry, which Fleur did her best to dispel as quickly as possible. Fleur, on the other hand, tried to hide herself, but Harry was surprisingly proficient with _hominem revelio _and _videa veritas_, rendering her efforts moot. Completely contrary to his attitude in the Trial of Air, Harry was being very passive, content on trying to trap Fleur without ever casting a spell directly at her.

Unfortunately for him, Fleur was dispelling his traps faster than he could lay them, and she realized it. Harry did as well, but continued his strategy of casting delayed detonation spells, sticky and slippery traps, and some light transfiguration on the arena floor. He spared no wand movements at all for putting up a shield, using his body and feet instead to dodge everything with nigh-clairvoyant ability. Dumbledore could already see Harry's strategy- namely, it involved tiring out Fleur by forcing her to take longer paths to approach him while forcing her to wait if she ever got too close. It was a good tactic against another who was faster, but not more powerful: use spells that took more _time_ to deal with than power. And Harry obviously still needed all the time he could get, as his left hand wasn't nearly as deft or accurate as his right.

Fleur caught on to the pattern pretty quickly, switching to simpler spells, aiming to overwhelm Harry. Without dispelling his last two traps, she unleashed a stream of simple sparks, basic bludgeoners, and easy enchantments. Unable to dodge everything, Harry laid down one final trap on the ground before putting up a shield. He tried to lead her into the right spot on the ground to set off the traps, but she was wary enough to avoid them. As a stinging hex struck Harry's leg, he dropped his shield. A sigh of dismay came from the audience, and a laugh from Madam Maxime, but Dumbledore knew it wasn't over. Like a cornered animal, Harry unleashed a strong wave of unusual spells- jelly-legs, dancing, foot-reversal, tripping, and several others of that sort. Only one of them struck home, but that was all he needed.

Fleur stumbled on to Harry's delayed spell, setting off a bright flash that blinded her- as well as him, and everyone in the front row of the audience. Still seeing spots, Dumbledore could just make out one lone figure standing on the platform. An eerie silence swept over the entire stadium as everyone else's eyes readjusted. It was Harry, standing alone. A few lone cheers rang out from the crowd, and the sound of applause slowly began to crescendo.

"Too early," grunted Karkaroff.

Dumbledore agreed. He noticed Harry begin the wand movements for _Hominem Revelio_ when a series of glowing bolts raced towards him. He abandoned the spell, awkwardly twisting his left hand to switch to casting a shield charm as he jumped out of the way, but he was struck by one and went flying. One final spell struck him right in the chest, and his wand popped away from his hand.

The cheers instantly turned to sighs of despair as Fleur reappeared triumphantly. She walked forward to pick up Harry's wand and promptly set off a trap that had yet to be dispelled, cementing her foot to the ground and causing her to fall flat on her face. Harry scrambled over for one last chance to stay in the fight, but with a simple summoning charm Fleur had his wand in her hand.

The march away from the podium was not pretty. Fleur hobbled off, refusing help but clearly having twisted her ankle at the end. The mediwitches would have her fixed up within a few minutes, but she was clearly angry at being hit with a spell even after she had supposedly finished the duel. Harry, despite his loss, was enjoying it.

"Your boy lost, Dumbledore. I can guarantee you Ivan is far stronger than the Beauxbatons champion."

"He _was_ using his off-hand for the entire duel," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps you should give him more credit."

"Non! Just like last time, 'e uses barely-legal attacks against Fleur. If 'is left 'and were ze weaker one, why would 'e not use 'is right instead of cheating?"

"That was merely a mistake," Dumbledore sighed, but she raised a detail he had nearly forgotten until today. He assumed Harry's left hand was his weaker one; but the boy showed a massive increase in skill despite the fact- or, maybe, because of it. Tom Riddle was always right handed-was the mysterious power that of a southpaw? Ridiculous, he told himself…

* * *

One hour and a few potions later, Fleur was walking back out to the arena as if it were her first duel of the day, save for her tousled-up hair. Ivan was waiting confidently. Dumbledore decided get up from his seat before he got caught in the crossfire between Maxime and Karkaroff. He considered this to be a chance to have a chat with Harry, perhaps under the guise of giving him some advice for his upcoming duel. Upon his arrival at the champion's tent, he found that it contained no champions.

"Mr. Potter is having lunch elsewhere," one of the officials told him. "I suspect he's still nearby, watching the duel, though. His girlfriend came to pick him up." Dumbledore nodded thankfully and scanned the surroundings. Nobody in the stands was swarming for autographs, so that must have meant Harry wasn't watching from there. Of course, Sirius Black wouldn't miss his godson's first legitimate duel. He quickly ascended the steps to the box seats, where Sirius, Harry, and his friends were all dining together. Hermione was providing her analysis of his duel with Fleur.

Sirius jumped to his feet when Dumbledore knocked on the door. "Come in, come in, Headmaster! So, you think you could give Harry any advice before the next duel?"

He looked out over to the arena, where Ivan was laying down line after line of ground-pounders. Fleur was hiding under a disillusionment, but she wouldn't be able to much longer. "Gladly. May I take a seat? Mr. Kolov seems to favour heavy-hitting spells over precision," he said as Ron scooted over and he sat down beside Harry. A pair of green eyes met his for only a second before forcibly turning back to the arena.

"That's just what Hermione was thinking, sir. I just hope I can draw out the duel long enough that he exhausts himself before I start attacking."

"Tell me, Harry, have you been learning any spells on your own outside of the classroom to help you in the tournament? I may not be able to teach you a new spell during the lunch hour, but I hope I can help correct and improve a few." He eyed the wand which Harry was already gripping in his hand.

"Well, I'm sticking to spells I'm already confident with, but can you give me some general advice on how to be more precise with my left hand?"

"Alas, Harry, mastering your off-hand is much like mastering your left hand for writing. This simply takes time and practice." Dumbledore smiled softly, remembering the time when he was still friends with Gellert. Both of them searched for every conceivable advantage in training to improve their power. Gellert, however, had decided to go beyond what he was willing to do- the dark arts. _Left-handedness is not evil_, Dumbledore told himself before his mind began to make random associations.

Hermione and Harry whispered a few things to each other. "Then maybe you could help me with fumation. I've been reading about it in some texts, and it seems like a nice alternative to apparition…"

"Harry, you know that you cannot get your licence until you turn sixteen, no matter what year of school you're in…"

Sirius looked at Dumbledore sheepishly. "That would be my fault, sir. I thought I'd start teaching them early, you know, so they could get the licence right away."

"And that's why I want to learn fumation," Harry said. "You don't need a license for that, do you? Well, I've been working on the three F's of fumation- Flux, Flight, and Formation. The last two are pretty easy, but the first step is the hardest."

This was a chance that Dumbledore was hoping for. "As first steps usually are," he replied. "Fumation is both less useful and more difficult than apparition. Are you sure you want to spend time studying it?"

"It's perfectly applicable in combat," Harry said. "Which I seem to have a knack for attracting."

"There is nothing I can tell you right now, but I suppose I could schedule a few private lessons after your classes. This is certainly a skill you need competent supervision to learn properly."

Harry paused and seemed to communicate silently with Hermione before answering. The old Harry he knew would have jumped at any chance to receive any sort of private tutoring from his headmaster, be it spellwork or story-time. Now it was actually a risk he had to weigh. "Alright, sir," he answered. Dumbledore let out the breath he was holding.

"I suppose Wednesdays are as good a day as any. You can come to my office an hour before dinner. It's never a good idea to vaporize yourself on a full stomach, after all."

"Oi, Harry, I think they're calling for you," Ron said, pointing to the arena. The duel was over, and Fleur looked like she wasn't walking off by herself this time.

Hermione gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. "For luck."

"I'll need it," he said.

_Ah, humility and love,_ Dumbledore thought. _Perhaps there's hope for the boy yet._

* * *

Dumbledore watched the final duel with some disinterest. Ivan was confident enough that he didn't even ask for the standard one-hour reprieve, downing a Pepper-up potion and immediately demanding the next fight begin. If Karkaroff's sneer was any indication, he certainly didn't see Harry as a worthwhile opponent.

Harry began with a similar tactic as last time, charming parts of the floor as traps to keep Ivan at bay. Ivan decided to deal with the traps in a different manner than Fleur, though. Instead of dispelling the traps, he simply set the floor on fire- presumably, making the traps even deadlier, and so he could easily see where they lay. Harry decided to switch strategies immediately, shooting pockets of water at the flames.

The water didn't douse the flames, but instead created enough steam to hide him from view for a second. Much like Fleur, he used it to set up disillusionment. Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles slightly in order to see Harry clearly. Ivan, seeing a similar strategy, countered it with what worked against Fleur- a set of ground-pounders in a wavelike pattern to corner an invisible opponent to one side of the field.

Harry was a little different, however. He seemed to be almost precognitive in his ability to squeeze in between the waves, letting Ivan think he'd been cornered, but was invisibly closing the distance between him and Ivan. Having blanketed the entire field with spells, however, Ivan realized something was wrong before Harry could reach him, and raised a wall of fire in front of him. Harry was forced to stop short. Ivan wasn't done, though. After a quick sweep of his end of the arena to make sure Harry wasn't behind him, he cast a flame-freezing charm on himself and began to conjure oil. Harry, seeing what was coming, quickly cast the same spell on himself.

The oil immediately alighted immediately as it flew through the firewall and continued to burn as it oozed across the arena. Dumbledore wondered if Harry had learned the Upstream Down spell, which would have elegantly caused all the oil Ivan was conjuring to flow back towards him as if he were downhill. It was a rather obscure spell, though, and Harry took a different strategy.

Blinding curses rocketed towards Ivan, giving Harry's position away- but he didn't stay there for long. Dashing straight through the fire, he attempted something that didn't quite work, but Dumbledore couldn't tell what it was. Ivan immediately raised a shield afterwards, and Harry retreated through the flames again, this time using his efforts to vanish as much oil as he could so he could safely stand as his flame-freezing charm began to wear off. His robes were on fire already- but he had to defend himself against Ivan, who was advancing steadily towards him. He ripped off the burning robes with his free hand, leaving himself duelling in only his trousers. The audience cheered.

In retaliation, he sent a conjured blotches of ink and paint at Ivan's eyes and followed up with an enraging charm. The physical substances penetrated the shield easily, allowing the enraging charm to strike. Ivan took a little longer to remove the spell from his angered state, which gave Harry enough time to attempt a Notice-Me-Not charm.

The plan worked _almost_ perfectly- Harry stood safely away from Ivan, who was lashing out angrily and wasting his energy attacking nothing. Unfortunately, he forgot to account for the type of spells Ivan would use. He conjured huge waves of fire that swept the arena, streams of molten lava, and even some burning rocks that rained down on the area from the sky. The officials were definitely having a hard time keeping the audience from being injured.

"Ivan is very particular to flame, as you can tell. I believe it became his favourite category of magic after the mandatory outdoor survival class at Durmstrang Institute," Karkaroff laughed.

"Oh? He seems quite proficient. How many years has he been honing this specialty?" Dumbledore asked casually, not rising to Karkaroff's baiting.

"Five years, obviously."

Harry eventually had to actively defend himself against Ivan, a move that spelled the end of the duel. The still-enraged wizard now focused all his anger on the sudden movement that caught his eye. Harry was blasted off the platform by a cyclone of volcanic rock and burning bits of the arena floor.

"A perfect way to end the day. What is it those Americans like to say? 'There is no kill like overkill?' Zero for two, Dumbledore. Now let's start making this tournament more interesting."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:** lots of notes ahoy, because I've had so much time to think but no time to write.

- I was originally intending this chapter to be written from Hermione's perspective, mostly because I've been kind of neglecting her character. But I also needed to figure out Dumbledore's off-kilter thought processes.

- what _is_ that weird, smoky-style apparition that's in the films and not the books? I'm calling it Fumation. I mean, it's definitely not apparition, as it still physically moves the person (e.g. Snape smashing a window as he "fumates" through it), it's not instantaneous, and there's no characteristic "crack" sound as described by the books.

- Random thought: Blood wards placed on Harry's home is based on Harry's blood. After GoF, Voldemort has Harry's blood post-resurrection. Ergo, Voldemort should be able to walk into Privet Drive any time he wanted after book 4.

- With any critical analysis, the canon prophecy makes no sense whatsoever. It _must_ be loosely interpreted (and i mean loose like a bar of soap in a water fight) to reach the conclusions that they did in canon. (e.g. "neither can live while the other survives"- harry/voldemort were both alive, and both survived for a while- that's not the definition of "neither." With interpretations like that, why is "mark" a physical mark, "seventh month" july, "born" even mean physical birth? Jeez.)

- Other random thought: Maybe this was unintentional, but JKR seems (unintentionally) sexist/racist. Sure, the overall moral of the books were that racism is bad, but... Fleur, the only female, and the only mixed-race contestant, loses at everything in GoF. She's pathetic. And muggles are just useless, cute folk who wizards need to take care of like people take care of pets. And, as I've noted, the epilogue. Confounding a muggle is just fine because "it won't hurt them" and "they're just muggles." Um... i thought you guys won the war...

- lastly, why is parseltongue a learnable language in book 7? The movie made it obvious (ron could actually make the right sounds on screen) but I thought the point of the language was that it was genetic (or in Harry's case, via the soul?) and unlearnable? Because memorizing sounds, repeating sounds, and associating meaning with sounds lets you have an entire language's vocabulary.


	55. The Calm

**Author's Notes:** The Harry Potter books are published by Bloomsbury. My story's published by . Alas, not quite the same.

- One million views! yay!

- One year old! double yay! and what a coincidence!

- I was actually hoping for this chapter to be done by the one-year-anniversary and before exams. one week late. ah well.

* * *

**Chapter 55: The Calm**

The New Year's Ball wasn't going to catch them unprepared. After the last day of classes, Harry and Hermione practiced their dancing in the only place in the castle where they could still find any privacy; at least, until everyone left for the winter holidays.

"You know, the giant, carved-up snake really kills the mood," Harry said.

"Ignore it," Hermione said. "And you're not holding me correctly!"

Harry lifted her hand a little higher and pulled her in aggressively with his other, squeezing their bodies together. "Better?" he whispered into her ear.

_Ah! Can't move! He shouldn't be leaning forward so much! I should be leaning back more! His hand should be higher on my back! Oh, this feels so nice, though…_ Hermione thought. "I'm not complaining."

Harry laughed. "You know you can tell me what I need to fix, right? You can always find something wrong with my technique."

"Ahem. Something to _improve_," she corrected. "I'm really happy about your, uh, _performance_. In the tournament, I mean. And out of the tournament as well. I-uh, that is, SNAPE Society. Oh bugger, that came out all wrong."

"Hermione! Language!" Harry mimicked Hermione's usual tone on him, bursting into laughter immediately afterwards. "So, what should I fix first?"

Hermione realized that the whole time they still hadn't moved. "You know… maybe we're taking this too seriously. Forget about putting on a good show for the audience- I just want to enjoy the night. Let everyone else dance around us if they want to."

"Sounds perfect." The two of them hadn't been able to find much time together. They certainly spent a lot of time in each other's presence - classes, training, extra lessons, SNAPE Society- but never any time to relax with each other. And when they did have time, both were too tired to really do anything but sleep. The fact that they even had a few hours this evening was practically a miracle.

"In fact… why are we even wasting our time here with this corpse? Let's go outside," Hermione suggested. "Take me for a ride, Harry," she said, picking up Harry's Duster Mk II.

With Hermione's arms wrapped around him, Harry rocketed through the dark tunnels of the Chamber of Secrets and out one of the secret exits in the Forbidden Forest. He felt the cold December air for only a second when he was enveloped in an insulating warmth. "Thanks, Stilts," Harry said.

The sky was cloudless, giving them a full view of the starry night sky. Below, the rustle of the wind through the trees induced a sense of solitude that neither of them had been able to enjoy since the summer. Travelling even further away from the castle, Harry continued over the forest until he could hear the sound of waves crashing upon rock. Looking back, Harry realized he couldn't even see Hogwarts any more. "Want to have a little fun?" he shouted as the sea got louder.

"Show me what you can do," Hermione replied. "You're a natural dancer when you're in the air."

Harry felt Hermione's grip tighten as he dove towards the sea, and used that to gauge how well he was doing. He cruised along the undulating surface, holding as close as possible without letting the spray catch him. As Hermione's grip loosened, he spied a larger wave and decided to "surf" it, following a rising wave close enough to skim the water with his hands. Hearing a joyful giggle behind him, he asked, "This doesn't scare you anymore?"

"You're going to have to do better than that," Hermione replied. "Show me something you did in the Trial." Harry obligingly raced towards the cliffs this time, racing towards the rocks and waiting to pull up as late as possible. Like before, he scraped the rocks with his feet before rocketing vertically upwards. "Thanks, Harry, that's more like…"

Harry wasn't done. Letting himself free-fall for a few seconds, he spun around and started rocketing towards the water again. Hermione kept laughing until the last second, when she realized that there simply wasn't enough time for Harry to pull out of the dive, and screamed. An uncomfortable tug of the navel and a characteristic crack later, and they were high in the air again, just outside the Hogwarts wards.

"Gotcha," Harry said. "I've been working on that one. Wanted to use that in the tournament, but it probably would have gotten myself in trouble."

"A _little _trouble? From mid-air apparition? Are you insane, Harry? How do you focus on a mid-air destination? What if you splinched the broom?" Hermione's voice was mixed, as she couldn't quite figure out whether she was being inquisitive or concerned. She was, however, back to the worrisome Hermione that Harry hadn't seen in a while.

"I would have just turned into my animagus form. So could you. I wasn't too worried about it," Harry said. They flew silently, Hermione still recovering from her fright. Harry continued. "Don't think I can do it with anyone else because of that. We could… um… practice it together over the holidays, at Sirius's new place!"

"I'm sorry, Harry… you know my parents wanted me back home to celebrate Christmas. Convincing them that I had to be back for New Year's Eve was difficult enough," Hermione replied. "I know my father's still holding a bit of a grudge… even though I sent them a few copies of the _Daily Prophet_ about how you're the champion representing Magical Britain this year. And, to be honest… I haven't spent a Christmas with them for… _years_ now."

"You're right," Harry relented. She needed time with her family, alone… and his only family now was Sirius. He could probably make good use of it himself. "We can have a fabulous night together when we come back here for the ball."

* * *

The house appeared to be small, subdued, and completely unfit for the last surviving member of an ancient line of pureblooded wizards who could trace his lineage back as far as the days of Merlin. The thatched roof made it appear to be no better than a farmer's hut. The muddy, unpaved path leading to the front door was not very inviting to anyone wearing dress robes. Despite its prime location near the legendary Camelot, it sat at the base of a hill and gave panoramic views of only mud, grass, or at this time of year, endless white snow. It bordered a meadow where hares were known to breed incessantly, drawing other wild predators onto the property. Sirius thought it was perfect.

Remus came bearing a rather meagre gift for the housewarming party, but Sirius obviously didn't care about it as much as seeing his friend waiting at the front door. He left Harry behind, changing into his grim canine form mid-leap and bounding towards his old friend.

"Whoa! Down, Paddy!" Remus laughed. "You're going to break your gift!" He dropped the package as gently as a person piggybacking a ten-stone dog could. "Save it for the full moon!"

"Yeah, Sirius. It's going to be a pretty sad party if you maul half the guests before it starts," Harry said.

"You two aren't the only ones I've invited," Sirius said, transforming back. "Come on inside… I'd like you to meet my family. I mean, the only real family I have left." Sirius, Remus, and Harry entered the living room, which was very sparsely populated with imposing armchairs and a chesterfield that looked out of place in the cozy and inviting home.

"I kept some of the furniture from Grimmauld Place," Sirius explained. "At least, until I find enough time to go shopping for my own," he said. They sat down in front of the massive, blazing fireplace. "Hang on for a second," he said, tossing some floo powder inside. After sticking his head in for a few seconds, he stepped back. "Allow me to introduce to you…"

Three people stepped out of the fireplace, dusting themselves off. The first was a woman who looked as old as Sirius- but then again, Sirius looked ten years older than he actually was, due to his time in Azkaban. She immediately wrapped him in an energetic hug. Following her was a portly man, presumably her husband, who just smiled and waved meekly at Remus and Harry. Finally, there was the shockingly-out-of-place daughter, who was dressed in a more form-fitting muggle jacket, chewing bubble gum that matched her hair.

"Tonks!" Harry shouted suddenly, recognizing her from a deeply-buried memory. The entire family's eyes turned to focus on Harry, and then his scar.

Still trapped in the arms of the older woman, Sirius gestured as best he could. "Oof! Well, like I was going to say before my cousin here squeezed the life out of me, this is the Tonks family. The only good cousin I have left, Andromeda Tonks, her husband, Ted Tonks, and their daughter, Nym-"

"Don't you say it! I'm-" she said, raising her finger at Sirius as her hair darkened to match her cheeks.

"Just Tonks," Harry finished for her, chuckling. "But won't that be confusing with all three of you here?"

"That's right, Nymphadora. Just go by your given name today," Andromeda said.

Tonks was too perplexed to respond, staring at Harry instead of responding to her mother. "How did you know? Sirius would never give up the chance to call me Nymmie if he could get away with it."

"That's Harry Potter you're talking to, Nymmie," Sirius laughed. "Let me tell you, I've tried that pickup line on my fair share of girls, and it's not going to work any better on the boys." Tonks blushed even more furiously, and now her face was starting to morph into a bony, aggressive snarl.

"Hey now, Sirius, don't be so hard on the girl. We're here to celebrate, aren't we? I'm Remus Lupin." He extended a hand to Tonks.

"See, Sirius? Why can't you learn to be more of a gentleman like your friend here? It's unbefitting of someone of such noble blood." There was a short, awkward silence before everybody burst out laughing. Everyone relaxed from there, and Sirius began leading them around the house. Despite looking like a simple cabin from the outside, it housed four bedrooms upstairs, one of which Harry was thrilled to see had already been marked of as his own. On the main floor, there was a complete kitchen that would satisfy any chef, currently being occupied by one extremely happy elf.

"Moppitt here couldn't wait to start making dinner for everyone as soon as I said I wanted to invite you over. She's been in here all day," Sirius said. "Say hi to everyone, Moppitt!"

"Hellos guests!" the elf squeaked and went straight back to work.

"What happened to Kreacher?" Andromeda asked. "Not that I'm complaining, of course. Moppitt has much better manners."

"Got rid of him as soon as I could. He almost tried to kill me when I got some of the cursebreakers to take out my mother's portrait, though. Probably should have ordered him to take it down himself. His brain would have melted trying to process that," Sirius explained. Leaning over to Harry, he whispered, "Speaking of cursebreakers, I need to talk to you after the party."

The rest of the evening was pleasant, and it reminded Harry of the Christmas he had spent with the Grangers. Andromeda and Sirius reminisced about their old families, sharing stories of their childhood, while Ted told the story of how he and Andromeda met. Tonks and Harry were more interested in Hogwarts stories from Remus. Moppitt cooked a delicious meal for them, consisting of roast hares and local vegetables.

"Did you catch these yourself, Sirius?" Ted asked. "There's nothing quite like fresh meat."

"Hunt? No, I bought these at the local market. You mean you catch wild animals yourself?" His carnivorous instincts were piqued, as were Harry's.

"Oh no, here it comes," Andromeda muttered. Ted began to regale upon them the joys of marching through the woods, rifle in hand, waiting for hours to find the perfect target. He explained at length how his muggle father had taken him hunting every summer through his teens. Without an adult wizard, he had learned to hunt without any aid of magic. When he came of age, though, he certainly didn't mind making a few things easier on himself, but had quickly realized that the joy was in the hunting, not the catch. Sirius, who had spent much of his time as an escapee chasing rats for food, was thrilled at the idea. Harry's summer of catching his own meals had already taught him to appreciate a good hunt. Before they knew it, he'd roped all the boys into a hunting trip in the spring.

When the Tonks family left, Sirius brought Harry and Remus down to the cellar. It was stuffed with chests, boxes, and trunks. "This is most of what I could salvage from the Grimmauld Place," he explained. "At least, all of objects that aren't cursed. I had Kreacher sort and get rid of all the cursed items, and Moppitt to check his work afterwards. All of it's safe to handle. So take your pick, you two. It's your Christmas presents. Moony, may I suggest my father's overcoat?"

Harry began rummaging through the nearest boxes while Sirius and Remus were busied themselves with an old wardrobe. He wasn't looking for anything flashy, and certainly not anything valuable, but nevertheless came across a box of jewels. The Blacks certainly enjoyed flaunting their wealth, as there were massive gems set in every accessory Harry had seen- earrings, necklaces, tiaras, rings, bracelets- and some that Harry couldn't even figure where they were supposed to be worn.

Sirius caught him staring at them. "You might look good with one earring, Harry, but if you start wearing a tiara I might have to disown you."

"What? No, I didn't really want any of these, actually. Wait, I do. But just the gems. I don't suppose there's a way to take the gems out? There's a project I'm working on, you see… have you ever heard of a caster-glove?"

"Interesting devices. They store a tiny bit of magic and release it later. Those things were outlawed ages ago, Harry," Remus answered when Sirius just looked confused. "At least, for squibs, muggles, and non-humans. They're not very useful for wizards, since they run out of juice before you'd normally run out of breath."

"How did _you_ know that?" Sirius asked.

"I qualify as a non-human. Incidentally, a caster-glove would allow me to cast magic even when I'm in werewolf form. Hence the ban," he sighed.

"I was thinking of building my own… but I'd end up ruining the jewellery," Harry pointed out.

"Go ahead. I'm never going to wear that stuff, and the real Black treasures are stored in Gringotts. Those are just cheap and flashy stones. Real gems, of course, but nothing important," Sirius answered nonchalantly. "They just remind me of my old family anyway. Smash 'em for all I care."

* * *

The following morning, while they were having breakfast, Sirius asked, "Which do you want first, good news or bad news?"

"Is this about the cursebreakers? Just give me both at once," Harry said, worried what could have gone wrong.

"They found a locket where you said it would be. And then they lost it," he said.

"Lost it? Define 'lost.'"

"Sitting at the bottom of an underground lake with at least a thousand inferi; that kind of lost."

Harry slumped in his chair. "At least it's not going anywhere," he sighed.

"Then I might have to tell you the ugly news now," Sirius said. "That locket might have been a fake. A decoy. They said it had almost no curses on it at all. They only confirmed it had no curses, but that's when the inferi attacked. The ring was different; it had layers and layers of protections and a few nasty curses on it."

_So did the tiara_, Harry thought. That was enough to convince him the real horcrux was elsewhere. He didn't fancy trying to pick Voldemort's brains face-to-face again, but if it came down to it, he might have to. "Well, I guess that's enough for now. I'll figure something out later."

"Maybe we should let Remus in on this?" Sirius asked. "He's pretty brilliant, you know. Came up with all our pranks at Hogwarts, helped me pass all my classes… and you said he was a decent professor to boot."

"I think we can trust Remus," Harry agreed.

"Good, because I already told him."

"_WHAT?_"

"Hey, it just slipped out!" Sirius said, shrinking into his chair. "He was helping me tally up my finances, alright? A few thousand galleons doesn't slip by a guy like him. Besides, I trust him with my life. We're all Marauders." Harry begrudgingly nodded. "What's more, he came up with a business proposal."

"Oh?"

"Well… as usual, he's having a hard time finding work, and I'm having a hard time finding work that I like. You, meanwhile, have a broom that nobody's ever seen before. I say we should start our own broom company."

"That's a great idea!" Harry ran upstairs to his room and popped open his trunk. "This is the second version. A little more durable than the first," he said, presenting it to Sirius. "Do you want to give it a try?"

"Do I ever!" Sirius giddily took the broom outside, launching himself into the air as if it were his first time riding a broom. Much like a first-timer, he fell off almost immediately. The snow cushioned his fall, and the Duster landed several paces away. "Is it just me, or is that broom really hard to control?"

"It takes some getting used to, for sure," Harry said. "I don't think you could sell it to anybody… start with the professionals."

"Do you have a different version? Something a little more toned down?" Sirius asked. "I doubt I could convince anyone to buy this if I can't even demonstrate it."

"This _is_ the toned-down version. The other one could barely last one race without falling apart," Harry laughed. "Although, I guess it would be pretty easy to leave out a few bundles here and there… maybe use a softer wood… I'll try to make one that an old man like you can handle."

"Old man? I'll show you old man!" Sirius ran over to the broom and took off again. This time, he managed to last a full thirty seconds before he nearly crashed into his new house. Harry spent the rest of the morning trying to coach Sirius on how to fly his particular broom. It took several hours, but Sirius's old Quidditch training slowly came back to him, and he was able to get it under control by lunchtime. "Hah! What did I tell you? Black Feather Brooms is in business!"

* * *

The remainder of the Christmas holidays was quiet, but busy. He kept in touch with Hermione and Ron with the help of Hedwig. Hermione was having a grand time explaining to her parents why she absolutely had to return to school with a beautiful dress instead of celebrating the new year with her family. Ron, meanwhile, was having less-than-merry Christmas, as it had turned into an extended family reunion- without Bill. When Harry mentioned Ted Tonks and hunting, however, Ron relayed it to his father, and both expressed their interest in joining.

Since Harry and Ron wouldn't be able to go out at all until June, Ted decided to have a short hunting trip a few days after Christmas, just before they had to return to Hogwarts for the ball. Early in the morning on the twenty-seventh of December, six men gathered together in Sirius's front yard. Arthur came "prepared-" he had several enchanted bear traps that had come across his office earlier, as well as a bow and some enchanted arrows.

"You won't be needing those," Ted told him, chuckling inwardly. "And I'll be doing most of the shooting today. Handling a firearm is dangerous for the inexperienced. Now, does everyone know where the Forest of Dean is?" Sirius, Remus, and Arthur nodded. "Good. We can bring Harry and Ron here via side-along."

There wasn't any snow where they arrived, although the ground was covered in frost. The frozen leaves crackled underfoot as they surveyed their surroundings. Ted dropped a long case on the ground. He opened it to reveal a shotgun, binoculars, maps, whistles, and various other equipment. "Is that what a gun is? I thought they were supposed to be like muggle wands. A little smaller," Arthur reaching down to inspect it.

Ted swatted his hand away immediately. "First thing you should know about guns is that you're very liable to hurt yourself if you don't know what you're doing. So, unfortunately, I'll be the only one handling it today, unless we can find several more weekends for you to learn about safety. And get licensed."

"So what do we get to do?" Sirius asked, feeling cheated.

Ted handed him a pair of binoculars. "I'll have jobs for everyone. Now, let's lay down some ground rules." He spent the next half-hour giving a short lecture on safety and strategy, making sure everyone had a permanent _revelio_ charm on themselves. They also planned their route and knew the signal if anyone became separated. At the end, everyone was assigned a role.

Sirius, Harry, and Remus were the both spotters and beaters- they would slowly drive the birds to designated areas. Sirius would transform into a dog when they got close enough to chase them out. Ron would be in charge of directions, although it was a pretty easy job with an enchanted map. Arthur decided to carry equipment, since he was more interested in the muggle devices inside than the hunt itself.

Their first few attempts were less than successful. Every time, a small issue would arise that caused Ted to miss his mark. First it was terrain, then it was timing, then it was placement. He didn't have a chance to pull the trigger once before the birds got away. Ted apologized, "I usually hunt with a few of my muggle friends- I'll be honest, I'm rarely ever the one to devise the strategy ever since my father realized I had better aim than he did."

Staring at the map in his hands, Ron came up with a suggestion. "There's a small clearing over this way, and the last I saw the pheasants were moving this way," he said, tracing a path on the map. "If Sirius could keep calm, maybe can move over here, Professor Lupin can take a position above this ridge…" He started pointing everyone to specific positions on the map.

"I can't take a shot if anyone else is in front of me, though," Ted warned.

"Well, let's do it this way, then." Ron formulated an alternative position that would have the pheasants flying up through the clearing. Ron and Arthur stayed with Ted, helping to keep extra eyes out for the _revelio_ charm in case something went wrong. Harry, Remus, and Sirius slowly swept their prey- as soon as they started to run, Sirius pounced forward, barking loudly. The birds took flight just in front of Ted, as planned.

_BOOM_. Arthur and Ron fell over. Sirius managed to change back into a human, whip his wand out, and then proceed to fall over as well.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron exclaimed.

"Language, Ron!" Arthur shouted. "Bugger me, Ted, what was that?"

"I warned you it would be a little loud. Don't you have your earmuffs on?"

"Yeah, but I didn't think it would be _that_ loud! It sounded like an explosion! Are you sure that thing's working properly?"

"Actually, a gun pretty much works by making an explosion," Remus said dryly. He picked up the prize and handed it to Arthur. "Dear Merlin, that looks delicious. Let's bag ourselves a few more."

The hunt continued in the same manner, seeing how successful that strategy had been. After catching three of them, congratulations were handed all around to everyone and their hard work.

* * *

Harry and Ron, not quite ready to settle down for the day, went for a flight above the house, tossing a conjured ball back and forth as a quaffle. Harry was rather impressed with Ron today; had it been last year he wouldn't have expected his friend to take the initiative. "You did well today, Ron," he tried encouraging him.

"Thanks," Ron replied. "But it wasn't that much, I mean; they're just a bunch of dumb birds."

"What, you want something a little more challenging?" Harry asked, hurling the quaffle hard.

"Well, yeah, I guess that might be fun," Ron said, extending an arm to block it. "What have you got in mind?"

The response surprised Harry, who honestly expected Ron to turn down extra work as he used to. Then again, he had to admit Ron had attended every SNAPE Society meeting he could. "Really? I should have asked you earlier then. I want you to help me with the tournament," he said.

"What can I possibly help you with? You're the one who's already teaching everyone how to brew potions and how to duel. You jumped straight to sixth year, mate. I've got so much to do to catch up." Harry could tell that Ron was feeling patronized. The quaffle passes became a little more aggressive.

"Consider it a practice run, Ron. I've got a… bigger project after all this is over that I'll definitely need your help with," he said. "But let's start with something easier. The Trial of Water is all sorted out, and I've already got a plan for the wandless duel. I need your help with the last few events- more specifically, the ideal routes and timing to get past some of these challenges. You know how busy Hermione and I are already teaching extra potions to everyone." Harry still wasn't sure why the events had changed, but at least they were announced to everybody. Now he didn't have to make excuses as to why he was so much better-prepared than the other champions, and have people working on the problem openly.

"Yeah, I could do that," Ron said, throwing the quaffle back at Harry. "But what's this 'big project' you've got going on?"

Harry sighed. He felt the awkwardness of bringing up a touchy subject with Ron when his friend was already feeling agitated. "Voldemort. Multiple cursebreakers and a small security detail. A very dangerous Azkaban escapee. A heavily fortified position..."

"You're talking about how Bill died," Ron said flatly.

"Yeah. I think I might have to do something like that again," Harry hinted. "In fact… would you like to see the notes I have on that day?" He gently lobbed the ball to Ron.

Ron held on this time, staring at it silently. He then vanished it and said, "Alright, mate. Let's see what you've got."

Back in Harry's room, Ron pored over pages upon pages of parchment. Harry answered his questions to the best of his ability. Completely engrossed, he didn't even hear the call for dinner, but rushed down when Harry pulled him away. Throughout dinner, Ron was silent, making Harry worry that Ron might once again blame him for the loss of his brother. After dinner, he went straight back to the room, this time scratching little pictures and diagrams on blank sheets of parchment, speaking to Harry only to ask more questions or for more parchment. It wasn't until it was time for Ron to return home, feeling more warn out from an afternoon of reading than a morning of hunting, when Harry decided to ask.

"Ron… are you still angry at me for what happened?"

"No… no, that's not it. I… I kind of hoped, you know? I want to blame _somebody_, maybe I could say you screwed up and I could vent. But every time I thought I had something, I'd need something else… like when I'm playing chess, and I would sometimes think 'maybe if I had three knights, this would be easy.' That's bunk, because I would have to pretend you had a seer on your team, or that Bill wasn't a Gryffindor, or that it would be just fine if Lee's brother had died instead of mine… or that I could see the whole field like I can in chess. I guess… I think I'm mad because I _can't_ blame you, Harry. I can't blame anyone but You-Know-Who, and that doesn't make me feel any better. It's all bollocks, anyway. Thinking about this won't do any good unless I could go back in time to fix it."

Harry just waved silently with his best poker face on as Ron stepped through the fireplace.

* * *

Returning to Hogwarts on New Year's Eve with just enough time to get dressed and meet with Hermione. She came down from her dorm this time with a simple, little black muggle cocktail dress. She changed her hair again; this time she chose to curl her hair so that it looked like an organized mess as opposed to the usual chaotic one. She also had minimal jewellery on, opting only for a simple gold chain around her neck and ruby studs for her ears.

"You're making me feel overdressed this time," Harry commented as she descended the stairs.

"Come on, didn't we agree that tonight we'd just have some fun?" she asked, linking elbows with her date. "I didn't want my parents to spend all that much on a dress for me- as much as I liked the last one, I can't see myself wearing it more than twice in my life."

"True. Although I wonder what the wizards will have to say once they see a girl with a dress cut above the ankles," Harry laughed. "Maybe I should have just worn a muggle tuxedo instead of dress robes."

"We could still change that," Hermione said, pulling her wand out from under the side slit of her dress.

Harry gawked for a moment. Shaking himself out of his trance, he laughed it off. "Always prepared, aren't you? No, these robes are hand-me-downs from Sirius. Black family robes, apparently," he explained. "Still, I can't blame you. Can't let another vision ruin the party tonight."

"Why does it have to be tonight?" she sighed.

"Well, today's his birthday. I suppose some rituals work better that way," Harry answered. "Look, let's just have a dance, a dinner, and then we can nip off and enjoy the rest of the evening until Riddle decides to crash the party, eh?"

The Great Hall they arrived at was far less joyful than the last time around. The crowd was downright chilly to one another- the dinner tables were sharply divided into Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, each one eyeing the others distrustfully. Fleur was dating someone from her own school; as was Ivan. For an international relations stunt, this entire tournament was a disaster. The gloomy atmosphere certainly made them want to leave the ball early. Fleur and Ivan took to the floor as if it they were still competing; Harry's indifference and casual dancing made them seethe. It was quite obvious neither of them were truly interested in their dates- Harry and Hermione were the only ones having a good time.

Late into the evening, as Ludo Bagman was unsuccessfully trying to drum up excitement for the midnight countdown, Harry and Hermione slipped away from the crowds and made their way down to the Chamber of Secrets. "I suppose it's a good thing we practiced dancing down here after all," Hermione laughed.

They held each other closely for a slow waltz until the hour approached. The pain in his forehead gave only a second of warning, letting him kneel down. "Come on, Voldie. Let's see what you have to show me this time…"

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I don't particularly hate Ron- at least, the Ron that JKR _intended_. I do dislike the one that ended up on the pages of canon, though. He's going to need some fixing up to actually turn into the reliable, honorable, actually-non-prejudiced wizard he was supposed to be.

- I've never actually been hunting before, but I'd like to try it. It actually surprised me that pheasant hunting season is in the dead of winter.


	56. The Storm

**Author's Notes:** JKR owns Harry Potter, I own... a few characters in this story.

- Happy New Year everyone!

- to everyone in the USA: write to your congressmen about SOPA and the Protect-IP act. Tell them to vote it down. If they support it, don't support them. That law is internet censorship, pure and simple. It's like the Great Firewall of China the Chinese government uses to oppress its people; the only difference is that this law serves to help corporations oppress the citizens. It puts a ridiculous burden on site owners and allows corporations to shut down "offenders" without notice or due process.

- For a real example of how SOPA would work: let's say an anonymous user posts a review on a story here on . In the review he quotes some random song lyric. The RIAA (who are willing to outlaw freedom of speech for more profits) hears about it. They can, **without letting the owners of know**, shut the website down (by de-listing from DNS servers- that means when you type that URL into your browser, it won't connect to anything). Apparently it's up to to comb through every single post in the forums, reviews, and stories and make sure absolutely nothing contains any copyrighted material, ever. Take any website you visit that allows comments or has a forum- and they are under the same burden. "Fair use"- that is, using copyrighted material for non-profit, satire, or personal reasons (like writing fanfiction!) is not covered by SOPA.

* * *

**Chapter 56: The Storm**

"Crouch? Crouch, where are you? The transfer is complete. Get me off this table!" The shrill voice of a teenage boy couldn't convey the authority the words demanded. Harry found himself staring at the ceiling. Blurry and dim, he couldn't make out where he was. The voice sounded out again. "Crouch, you mad fool, get in here _right now!_"

A door creaked behind him. "I'm right here, my lord."

"Why can't I move?"

"Apologies, m' lord. The boy's been sedated an entire month. I'll have you up and about in two shakes." He wandered off without ever coming into Harry's field of view, which was slowly becoming clearer. There was a chandelier up above him. Fancy. He could hear Crouch continue to tinker with something behind him. "Ah, this should wake your body up. It'll give you a little boost to your magical strength as well."

Harry watched as Crouch came over, carrying the thickest needle he'd ever seen, almost as large as a pencil. Oddly enough, it resembled a sewing needle more than a syringe, complete with some kind of ethereal thread looped through the end. He could even spy some odd marks on it- either writing, or runes; he couldn't quite tell. "No marks on the boy, Crouch."

"Don't worry, m'lord. It'll heal right up when it's done." He then jammed the needle straight into the heart as Harry watched, unable to move. Thankfully, the entire body was still numb, but he could feel Voldemort's fury build up. He could also feel a touch of fear from another source, but it was faint. As the needle sank all the way in, the thread that was looped around began to pull its way into the body, going faster and faster until it ran out completely. When it was done, Crouch yanked the needle back out.

Voldemort jerked awake to the pain, now that the body was fully functional. Crouch remained calm as ever, healing the gaping hole with a basic spell. "I… am not… to be used as one of your experiments, Crouch! Where is my wand?"

"Now now, don't be hasty, m'lord. What doesn't kill the boy will only be used to make you stronger. And I think that was a success. You should be back to about a quarter of your usual strength despite that weakling's body. Just don't overuse it." He left the room with a mad cackle, passing Lucius Malfoy at the doorway.

Malfoy entered bearing a tray with a glass of water and two wands - one yew, and one hawthorn. The man, once an alpha among wizards, had been reduced to house-elf duty – since he didn't have a house-elf of his own. Voldemort grabbed the glass of water and drank. With his other hand, he flexed his fingers open and closed, testing his control of his new body. He then grabbed the yew wand.

"Cast a shield charm, dear Lucius."

"My lord?" Malfoy was hesitant to draw his wand.

"Do it." He raised his wand, pointing it straight between Malfoy's eyes. The shield charm was cast almost reflexively, and Voldemort wasted no time casting an explosive curse. The magic hammered Malfoy's shield and knocked him into a bookcase, covering the crumpled heap of a man in dusty, unread tomes.

Voldemort's line of vision followed Malfoy as he crawled halfway across the room, where his wife laid motionless, with a glassy stare of hopelessness that was now frozen in time. Lucius was obviously still in shock, shifting only slightly to look between his wife and Voldemort. Harry had never seen the man appear so weak and vulnerable- completely unlike the ruthless Malfoy who dominated the Wizengamot, who held the minister in his pocket, or who would stare down Dumbledore like a predator. "My wife… please, my lord, I… I humbly ask of you… return my son unharmed once you have finished…" he mumbled.

"You look at this as if it were a loss, when you have been rewarded! Your pathetic excuse of a son could never do something like this!" A stream of deep purple light erupted from Voldemort's wand and enveloped Narcissa's body. It quickly crumbled to ashes, and the ashes faded to nothingness. "I have given your son more power than he could have ever hoped to attain by himself. And in doing so, the Malfoy family will be generously rewarded once I return to power. I just need a little of Draco's time. You can always find yourself some other woman."

Harry then felt Voldemort speak inwardly, as if talking to him directly. _Remember, Draco, all you have to do is go back to Hogwarts and act normally. Your mother caught a rare form of spattergroit and you've been taking care of her for the past month. I have given you power, and if you cannot use it well I will have your body as well. Remember, I will always be watching._ Harry's vision dimmed as Voldemort relinquished control of the body back to Draco.

* * *

"So, what did you see?" Hermione asked, as soon as he woke up.

"Draco's coming back to school. And as much as I'd like to see him wearing a turban, I think we may have bigger problems to worry about."

"Turban? What one earth are you talking about?"

"Voldemort is hitching a ride to Hogwarts inside Draco's head. To look for something. I'm going to take a wild guess that it's the diadem I've already destroyed. Oh, by the way, Crouch and company are all hanging out at Malfoy Manor."

Hermione's eyes widened. "So what should we do? Hunt down Draco before he gets here? How do we exorcise him?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, with Quirrel, I grabbed his face and he started burning away. But that's not going to help; Voldemort's spirit just flew away last time and it would probably do the same if I tried it again." He finally got up, straightening out his dress robes.

"That… would involve killing Draco, wouldn't it?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Well… Quirrel certainly didn't survive." Harry sighed. "But despite how much of a ponce Draco is, I'm not quite ready to kill him."

"So what are we supposed to do? Let Dumbledore handle this?" Giving up was certainly not something Hermione was used to.

"I'm sure he'll take a wait-and-see stance like with Quirrel. No, we need to find someone who's actually concerned about the security of this school…" The answer came to Harry as he was saying it. "Moody." The question was how to break the news to him without arousing too much suspicion. With a few more days before school started again, Harry decided to be patient for an opportunity.

* * *

In the meantime, Dumbledore made good on his promise to teach Harry about fumation. Harry was a little nervous being trapped in Dumbledore's office, alone, but was glad to see Fawkes sitting on his perch. The furniture in the room had been neatly moved out of the way, and Harry was certain the office used to be smaller. "Are you sure it's safe to practice in here?" Harry asked.

"For the first few lessons, yes. Tell me, Harry, have you ever experimented with self-transfiguration?" Dumbledore asked while still sipping on tea.

"No," Harry replied succinctly, eager to get on with learning the skill.

"Never?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled knowingly. "Not even a little?"

Harry quickly broke eye contact and looked at the floor, bracing his mind. The old Moody would have chastised him for not maintaining his constant vigilance. "No, sir, not at all."

"Well, I only ask because there seems to be an osprey that has moved into Hogwarts, and strangely enough hasn't migrated south this winter. He never seems to hunt during the day, either, which is also rather odd for most ospreys…"

_Ugh. I really should have been more careful with those late-night flights_, Harry thought. Since there wasn't any point in hiding it any more, he said, "Yes, that's me. I'm also an animagus now. But what does this have to do with fumation? I was under the impression that this was supposed to be a lesson, not a detention."

Dumbledore gave Harry his usual, genial grin. "You can trust me with your secret, as your father did. Although I have to say, you are by far the youngest animagus I've ever known. You really knew nothing of animagi until last year?" Seeing only a curt nod from Harry, he continued. "Fascinating. Well, the reason I wanted to confirm this was because fumation is very much like the animagus transformation. It is a wandless form of self-transfiguration- and, because of this, it is very hazardous to learn improperly."

Harry was expecting a little more interrogation from Dumbledore, but was glad the headmaster was keeping his word. He would probably have to go through this with every lesson in the future.

"The main difficulty with this type of transfiguration is that you are transfiguring yourself into something formless. Losing a bit of yourself to a stray breeze before you attempt to reform your body would result in something much like splinching, but harder to repair…" Dumbledore extended his left hand, which appeared to be steaming. Or, more accurately, turning to white smoke. As the smoke grew thicker, his hand also grew fainter. The smoke collected around his arm, never moving far from his body. It quickly coalesced into the shape of a hand again and solidified.

"We can begin with learning to control smoke- first with your wand, then wandlessly." Dumbledore picked up something that looked like an Arabian oil lamp and set it between them. With a tap of his wand, it began releasing puffs of white smoke at regular intervals.

Harry began by trying out several wind spells to keep the smoke contained, but Dumbledore quickly stopped him. "No specific spells, Harry. You'll have to do this wandlessly eventually, so just try to focus by channelling your magic alone."

By the end of the session, Harry was able to get the smoke curling around the tip of his wand- not very impressive to Harry, but an impressive step according to Dumbledore. It was something he could practice on his own for the rest of the week. He kept the smoke bound in a tight ball at the tip of his wand as he left the office and made his way to the Gryffindor common room.

"So what did you learn today, Harry?" Hermione asked as he stepped inside.

"This," he said, holding out his ghostly lollipop, and released the smoke in front of her. She blew it away . "I think the question is how much did Dumbledore learn."

"What did you have to tell him, Harry? Did you say anything about Draco?"

"Nothing he didn't already know. He knows I'm an animagus, and probably assumes you are too. As for Draco, I'd rather let Moody take first stab. Have you figured out how we're going to do this?"

"Well, Ron came up with an idea that was remarkably simple…"

* * *

The dot with the name "Draco Malfoy" appeared on the Marauder's map in a group of four like the others, indicating that he was riding the carriages like everyone else. Moody was waiting at the front gate with his security team with Filch eagerly awaiting his chance to confiscate any undesirable Christmas gifts the students were bringing back.

"This feels so unnatural," Harry said, putting the map away. They waited behind a pillar just a little bit behind Moody, watching the students grudgingly shuffle back into their school. "I mean, this just isn't me. I'm not sure if I can do it properly."

"Oh come on, Malfoy's done it to you just about every day for three and a half years. You just have to channel your inner poofter," Ron said.

"Easy for you to say. You're not risking detention with Moody," Harry replied.

"Hush, boys. He's coming up the steps. Act natural!" Hermione whispered. Harry put his hands in his pockets and started counting the tiles on the floor. Ron started whistling… or tried to, at least.

"Since when did you start whistling, Ron?"

"Since you told me to act natural!"

"That's completely unnatural for you, Ron! Your whistling sounds awful and it's obviously something you don't normally do!" Hermione was on the verge of pulling her hair out.

"What about you? How long can you stay there and tie your shoelaces?" Ron countered.

"Hey, at least you're bickering like usual. Keep it up," Harry said, breaking off from the group. He marched forward against the stream of entering students. Seeing Draco in front of him, he crossed his arms like Draco would have and posed like a prima donna. "Hey, Malfoy, were you crying to your daddy for two whole months because you… uh… couldn't enter the Tournament?"

His challenge was predictably met with hostility from Draco's little posse- Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson all stopped and drew their wands. Harry grinned wickedly, drawing two. Hermione and Ron stepped out from the sides with their wands at the ready. The only one who didn't do anything was Draco himself, who only stared straight ahead and kept walking. Harry noticed the boy's blank expression and sunken eyes as he walked by. He looked like he could have been sleepwalking. A little taken aback by Draco's complete non-reaction, everyone stared as he shuffled by. "Hey, wait!" Pansy ran after him, and the two bulky boys followed suit.

Harry gave chase and tried taunting him a second time, "Hey Draco! Umm… your mother's a gerbil… ugh, I'm no good at this."

Hermione patted him on the back. "Moody's out of earshot anyway. We'll find another chance."

"Well, mate, if that was your best impression of Malfoy, I have to say you looked like a _complete_ wanker up there," Ron told him.

"Thanks… I think. I just don't think I'm cut out to act like a Malfoy," Harry sighed.

"That's a good thing," Hermione reminded him.

* * *

The next chance they had was during another press conference for the Tournament. With Dumbledore and the other headmasters tied up in front of the journalists, they could stir up some trouble and the headmaster wouldn't be able to deal with it for a while. Unfortunately, that meant Harry had to stay in the spotlight as well while Ron and Hermione tried to get Moody's sights set on Malfoy. Harry looked out at the sea of quills and parchment.

"Remember, Harry, you have to be on your best behaviour for this," Dumbledore told him. "The tournament is standing on rather shaky grounds already, this is our chance to show the world how friendly competition has brought our countries together."

"Mr. Potter! Your performance seemed to swing wildly from first place to last place. How do you think you'll do in the upcoming events?"

"I suppose the other two champions are feeling confident after the duels, but there's only one of those in the tournament. I'm pretty confident that I'm going to win," he answered.

"Richard Kingston from the _Daily Prophet_. Your classmates, including my son, have said that you use your right hand in school, yet you registered with your left for the tournament. Are you actually left-handed?"

Harry laughed. "No, Mr. Kingston, I prefer this wand for most of my spellwork," he said, brandishing his holly wand. "But since the tournament had a history of… shall we say, broken bones and broken wands, I would rather not lose this one."

"Even if it might mean you'll lose the tournament?"

"Lose? Never. I'm just giving the other two a sporting chance," he laughed, jerking his thumb over at Fleur and Ivan.

"Ultan Oakfield here of the Quidditch Inquisitor! Mr. Potter, given your spectacular performance in the Trial of Air, there are rumours that you'll be selling your broom. Is this true?"

Harry gladly responded. "Well, the broom I used is now broken, but I've given the design to my godfather, Sirius Black, and he's working hard to make an improved version available to everyone soon."

"A question from the readers of _Witch Weekly_- rumour has it that the lucky witch you brought to the ball was muggleborn. Don't you think a talented young man such as yourself deserves an equally talented witch from a prominent wizarding family?"

Harry took a deep breath and ignored the throbbing in his temples. "No_._"

"Could you… um… care to elaborate?" the witch asked meekly, seeing how little was on her parchment.

"I could point to the fact that she's easily the most talented witch I've ever met. Secondly, the most talented _competition_ I've had from a witch is from a part-Veela," he said, gesturing at Fleur. And lastly, the most intense rivalry is in my life is with a muggle-raised orphan named Tom." He narrowed his eyes, daring her to say it plainly.

"We'll let our readers know," she answered meekly.

"Are you talking about Tom, the barman from the Leaky Cauldron?" someone in the back shouted.

"No." Harry gave his terse reply once again and everyone laughed. _Smile and wave, _he thought to himself.

The next question came from one of the French reporters who was worming his way through the crowd in front of Fleur to get in front of Harry. "Monsier Potter! _Le Proclamateur Parisien _would like to know, why 'ave you chosen to take your potions lessons from one of our great potion-masters?"

Mr. Frenemis interrupted before Harry could answer. "I believe Mr. Fleming, who you are referring to, was born a Scotsman, so your question is poorly worded."

"Ah, yes, but 'e was trained in both France and Germany, and chose to establish 'imself in France, did 'e not? I will still reword ze question. Mr. Potter, why 'ave you chosen not to take potion lessons from ze school you are representing?"

Harry glanced at Dumbledore who was giving a don't-you-dare" look at him. He looked at Frenemis, who was like a deer caught in the headlights, fumbling for a way to turn the question around. _Well, on one hand, we have the reputation of Hogwarts and Britain as a whole. On the other… is Snape_, Harry thought. _On the __**other**__ other hand, I could just say that raising the standards of education is my duty to my country… oh, to hell with it, I just wish Snape was here so I could say it to his face._

He sat up a little taller in his chair, straightened his shoulders a little, and leaned forward. "That's because the Hogwarts Potions professor is substandard," he said with a straight face. A backwards glance at Dumbledore revealed the headmaster was already focusing on damage control. _And I even said it as politely as possible_, he thought, suppressing a smirk.

The uproar his statement caused all but guaranteed its place in the headlines tomorrow. Dumbledore was bombarded with questions while Frenemis did his best to prevent Harry from answering any more. Since the others were interrupting him so much now, he skipped out on the remainder of the conference while the others tried to salvage what they could of the situation. He found Hermione and Ron waiting for him in the boys' dorm, looking quite bored with the map splayed out in front of them.

"No luck, I suppose?"

"He hasn't moved from the dungeons for the past two hours, and whenever Moody's not in the classroom, he's patrolling outside. This is pointless!" Ron cried out.

"I didn't expect him to be so patient," Hermione said, exasperated as well. "This is definitely a different Malfoy from a few months ago."

* * *

The following evening, Harry and Hermione were doing their usual SNAPE Society potions lesson in the Room of Requirement, but Ron wasn't attending this time. Seamus explained, "Yeah, he started something with Malfoy in DADA. A little too obvious, even for Ron. He's got detention with Moody, and Malfoy got off scot-free. And I hear detentions with Moody are worse than his classes." Given how Moody was capable of doing everything short of torture as part of lessons, Harry wondered if he would be okay.

The potions meeting went ahead as usual, only to be interrupted halfway through with Malfoy barging in. "Potter," he said tensely. "What are you doing here?"

"_I'm_ having a student club meeting. You're not part of the club, so I should be asking… what are _you_ doing here?" Draco didn't answer. He just glanced around the room, noting there were well over fifty others in there, and left.

While everyone was cleaning up at the end of the lesson, Hermione pulled him aside. "Harry… you need to take a look at this," she said, holding out the map.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" Harry asked.

"That dot," Hermione said, pointing to an unlabelled speck sitting just down the hall from the entrance. "It _was_ Draco Malfoy a minute ago. I'm guessing Voldemort's taught him a powerful concealing charm."

"What should we do? What _can_ we do?" Harry was shaking his head. He couldn't be everywhere at once.

"I'll stay here and keep the room as a brewery," Hermione said. "You go grab your invisibility cloak. I'll watch for you on the map, and if I'm right, he'll go in as soon as I leave."

When Harry returned, Hermione was already waiting for him around the corner. "You're just in time," she whispered. "He's pacing back and forth in front of the doorway right now," she said.

"I found the twins' stash of dungbombs," Harry said, holding a dozen of them in his hand. "And a few of their experimental fireworks," he added, holding up his other hand. "That should get every staff member up here in a jiffy."

"I thought you wanted Moody to have first crack at Malfoy? What about Dumbledore?"

"Can't let him find out about the diadem," Harry said. "Dumbledore's unpredictable, but somebody else is bound to notice Draco's a little odd once we alert the entire school." Lighting the fuses, he dumped his entire arsenal of explosives at the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

The resulting explosion could be felt down the hall, smelt as far as the fourth floor, and heard throughout the castle. Everybody's reaction was either to run away from, or towards, the source. Harry and Hermione used the bubble-head charms to bear with the smell, and waited for the staff members to investigate. They didn't see Draco, or a nameless dot, reappear on the map. Curious students who braved the stink, and the usual staff members were already gathering around.

"Harry… a little more planning could have made this go more smoothly," Hermione said. She pointed to the map. With the ever-growing crowd of dots gathering in the hall, spotting the nameless dot appear would be nearly impossible. There was always the possibility that he would just keep himself inside the room until the crowd dispersed once again- the Junk Room had unlimited places to hide, after all. "I think we've lost this round."

"Not quite," Harry said, his eyes fixed on the map. "There he is. This is our chance." No longer a nameless dot, the name _Draco Malfoy_ had already slipped past the crowds and was moving down to the sixth floor. From the third floor coming up the same set of stairs was Moody. "Come on, we can catch up!"

Leaping down the stairs with such speed that he was nearly flying, Harry could barely kept his invisibility cloak wrapped around his body. He had to slow down and cast a disillusionment on his feet once he got close enough, but Draco obviously wasn't slowing down until he got to the dungeons.

He pointed the tip of his wand out of his cloak and let loose a disarming charm. Draco rounded the corner just as the spell was about to hit him, and it went sailing past into the next wall. Harry rounded the corner with a _Protego_ raised, expecting a counterattack now that the element of surprise was lost. Instead he saw Draco sprinting past Moody.

"Don't think that I can't see you, Potter!" Moody barked. True enough, his vividly blue eye was fixed on Harry, even through the invisibility cloak and disillusionment charm. "Just because you're a champion doesn't mean you aren't still a student as well! Were you trying to duel in the hallways?"

"Need to catch Draco," Harry shouted absentmindedly as he sprinted past Moody. The old man was fast despite his wooden leg, but not quite fast enough to keep up with Harry. Every second, he was falling further and further behind. Draco, on the other hand, was a surprise. The self-proclaimed prince of Slytherin whose mouth got more exercise than his legs could _run_. Every time he turned a corner, Harry could only just barely catch a glimpse of the boy taking the next one. Surely he was using spells to enhance his body, but Harry didn't know of any that didn't have detrimental side effects- and he didn't want to get into a duel with his legs already pushed past their limits. He continued to chase Draco the "natural" way all through the castle.

As soon as Harry was outside, though, he knew he had an advantage. With his invisibility cloak still on, he transformed into Mr. Bandanna and took off into the skies. As an invisible hawk, he was able to quickly catch up to Draco. The boy was heading through the forest, directly away from the castle to the edge of the wards. Because of foliage and Draco's deliberate zig-zagging course through the underbrush, it was hard to see and predict where the boy was going to be, but Harry did his best to make a quick strike against him. He dove down, avoiding the branches as best he could and transformed about fifteen paces ahead.

It wasn't far enough. As soon as Harry had his wands out, he was already on the defensive. Three silently-cast curses were flying at him. He blocked one while dodging two others. One was powerful enough to topple a tree behind him, fencing him in with no easy escape route. "Potter," Draco spat. "Every single time, you just have to get in my way, don't you?"

"I don't have time for you, Malfoy. I need to deal with the _other_ person in front of me," Harry said.

"Shut up," Draco snarled, and let rip another set of deadly curses. These ones caused the vines and roots on the ground to snap at Harry and bind his ankles, while another one caused the felled tree behind him to explode, sending splinters into Harry's side. Harry cut himself loose immediately and banished the shards of wood towards Draco. An invisible shield incinerated the wood before they could touch him.

Harry continued with the offensive. He cast sticking charms on the ground with one wand and explosion curses with the other to send dirt and rocks flying towards Draco from every direction. Draco managed to block most of it, but the portion that he missed was now clinging to his face and his hand, slowing down his vision and movement.

With Draco's body already taxed from the running earlier, he was slowing to the point where Harry could easily dance around him. Nevertheless, his confidence remained high. "You can't stop me, Potter. Not this time," Draco shouted. "I'm stronger than ever before." He continued with the direct attacks, sending magical blades and flaming spears flying towards Harry. The trees weren't much use as cover; most of Draco's spells were powerful enough to penetrate them.

"Yeah, that only means you've got a fair chance against me," Harry replied, ducking behind another tree. He cast some leadweight charms on the tree line above- and a hail of leaves, a hundred times their usual weight, rained down on Draco. He was going to follow up, only to see Draco copy him and perform the same spell on the leaves above _his_ head.

Countering with a featherweight charm, Harry followed up with a cyclone, causing all the fallen leaves to mix with the loose dirt, obscuring Draco's vision. He finally began attacking directly with stunners and disarming charms, forcing Draco to maintain a shield. In this final stand, Draco was tiring much faster than Harry, and eventually succumbed to both a stunner and a disarmer. Harry caught the hawthorn wand in his hand and approached the body slowly. He cast one more stunner in Draco's chest, just to be sure.

As he got nearer and nearer, he could feel a burning sensation much like he felt in first year, with Quirrel. His head started to throb as if his brain was being pulled out of his head. He knew what it meant. _This could really hurt him, _Harry thought. _But last time, it killed Quirrel and only slowed down Voldemort._ He wondered if he could banish Voldemort's spirit from Draco's body without actually harming the boy- so he grabbed Draco's wrist.

Instantly, he could feel an intense heat throughout his entire body, as if he had a sudden fever and all of it was being channelled through his hand. He could see Draco's wrist slowly begin to wither and age apart from the rest of his body. The intense pain and energy that seemed to be flowing through his hand was making Harry feel faint, but he held on, waiting for any sign that Voldemort's spirit would be released.

He was suddenly ripped away by a summoning charm, landing on his back. Moody was standing above him. "You've got ten seconds to explain what the hell you've been doing with that boy, Potter," Moody said. "And take off that invisibility cloak, you look ridiculous as a floating head."

"Voldemort. Possessed," Harry managed to mumble out. He slowly got to his feet, taking off the cloak, which was in remarkably good shape for what it had been through. Folding it up and putting it in his pocket, he asked Moody, "Did you hear about what happened in my first year?" he asked.

"Rumour has it Dumbledore was protecting the Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who and you got to it first," he answered. "But those are just rumours. Let's hear it straight from the horse's mouth."

"Later," panted Harry. He looked at his hands. They were red, throbbing, and some of the skin was flaking off the palms. "But… Malfoy… he's dangerous."

"Which means you should have told me instead of putting on that stage show with your friends," Moody shouted angrily. "Oh, you think I didn't notice? The Malfoys are already a dark family, the boy leaves school for months, his father hasn't been seen in public for weeks. It's my job to investigate why the boy's come back now. Your job as the champion of Hogwarts, Mr. Potter, is first and foremost to _not die_. I'm going to need a full explanation of what you were doing with _him_," he said, pointing at Draco. "And how you managed to do _that_," he added, pointing out all the destruction in the forest that the duel had caused. "And especially _this_." He tapped his wand on Harry's back, with his special eye obviously fixated on the runes Harry had hidden.

"Eventually. Start with Malfoy?" Harry was still trying to catch his breath and steady himself when Moody suddenly kicked him down again.

The world moved in slow motion as Harry fell. An intricate crystal knife that was aimed at his heart ended up spearing him just below his right collarbone. Draco, fully awake and now holding a yew wand, cast a fiendfyre spell to prevent Moody from catching him. He glared at Harry with a look of triumph from his glowing red eyes for a second before apparating away.

"Harry! Harry!" That was Hermione's voice. "Professor Moody, what happened? We need to get him to the infirmary!" Harry felt his body lighten as it floated up.

"Don't move the knife," Moody instructed her. "It's cursed, and it's sucking the blood out of him." Harry rolled his head to the side noting that the glassy blade had now turned blood red, and he was feeling fainter by the second. "Now go, get him to the infirmary! I'm going to try to stop this damn fiendfyre before it burns down the whole forest!"

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll be fine," Hermione reassured him. The treetops were a blur, and the cloudy skies above were getting darker and darker. Hermione's voice was getting further away. "Hold on, Harry…"

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- thank you, random anonymous review who caught a big plot hole! i've been mixing up me timelines...

- Random thoughts on Harry's blood protection:

- If Harry's mother had given him her protection as she died, how could Voldemort's soul possibly latch onto baby Harry?

- If Voldemort bypassed Harry's blood protection by taking his blood wards in book 4, why do the blood wards at the Dursleys have any protective value after that book?

- anyways, this is another little problem that I've been trying to figure out, to try to make it consistent. needless to say, it's another thing that'll be different from canon... if you haven't noticed already.


	57. The Thunderhead

**Author's Notes: **JK Rowling is officially the first billionaire author. If I had a dollar every time someone read this... I still wouldn't come close to that.

- Maybe it's just me, but writing is so much easier on the fly. Once I get a good idea in my head it rolls out pretty well spontaneously. Then I have to steer it back into the direction I want the plot to go.

* * *

**Chapter 57: The Thunderhead**

Sirius burst through the doors of the infirmary, frantically looking for Harry's bed. "I came as soon as I heard," he yelled as he rushed to the bedside. "How's Harry doing?"

"Stabilized, but not recovered," Madam Pomfrey answered. "Now, if you'll get out of the way, I have another blood-replenishing potion to administer."

"What do you mean, another? Aren't those supposed to last hours?"

"Yes, but this case is a little complicated. _Enervate._" Madam Pomfrey's spell energized the barely-conscious Harry just enough for him to down the potion safely. Hermione helped ease his head back onto the pillow.

"Mind telling me why there's still a knife in his chest?" Sirius pointed to the ruby-red knife still embedded in Harry's chest.

"The barbs… they've latched on to his veins somehow. It's draining his blood," Hermione answered for the school nurse. "Dumbledore managed to stop it from invading his body further, but he said he couldn't do more without more research. And no, we can't just smash it," she said, seeing the look on Sirius's eyes. "It looks like he'll bleed even more quickly if this thing is damaged in any way." She then applied a cooling charm to the area around the stab wound. Harry shivered slightly.

"Well, where's Dumbledore now?" Sirius shouted angrily. He started pacing back and forth, distraught at his own uselessness.

"Holding off the Minister and the press. Now if you don't calm down, Mr. Black, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're disturbing my other patients," Pomfrey huffed.

"Fine! I'm going to get me some answers. Hold on tight, kiddo." Sirius stormed out of the infirmary in search of the headmaster. His respect for the headmaster had been eroding away ever since he gained his freedom. As much as he hated Malfoy, the man raised some good points about the lack of justice that went on at the end of the war against Voldemort. And spending just a winter break with Harry taught him how much his godson had been missing in his early life. Still, he wondered if he had the courage to confront _the_ Dumbledore, at Hogwarts, no less.

He was stonewalled by the guardian gargoyle at the headmaster's office. It wasn't an issue- he had prepared to get a little messy on this visit. He and James had never given up on trying to prank their headmaster throughout their years at Hogwarts. Getting their (explosive) pranks into his office without permission was one of the problems they'd nearly managed to solve. He pulled out one of Remus's recent inventions that he had intended for Harry- Respell Ink. He poured out the entire ink bottle onto a piece of parchment, spelling out "OPEN UP! S. BLACK" in large, sloppy letters. One setting spell later, he poured the ink back into the bottle and transfigured the whole thing into a gecko.

The tiny tropical animal wasn't made for the Scottish winter, but it managed to reach Dumbledore's window as planned, and exploded as the transfiguration wore off. The ink coated the window in messy splotches; it then quickly coalesced into the same message that Sirius wrote before.

A few minutes later, the gargoyle shuffled aside. Sirius was about to take a step inside when he was nearly bowled over by Moody, Dumbledore, Fudge, Percy Weasley, Maxime, Karkaroff, and Bagman all at once. Everyone was arguing so loudly that Sirius couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"You dare blame us? Ze attack was clearly perpetrated by one of your own, Minister!"

"Malfoy is a good friend of the Minister; he vouches for the family personally! Clearly, the boy was coerced- nay, he must have been confounded, or under a disguise!" Moody snorted in disgust at Percy's blind allegiance.

"Why is everyone so worked up? The boy survived, and the tournament will go on. This matter does not affect Durmstrang in the slightest… this meeting was a waste of time!" Bagman tried to stop Karkaroff from leaving by quoting a bunch of rules from the Tournament Tome.

"Nobody's blaming anyone! In fact, let's not speak a word of this to the press until the mystery's been solved. That would be best for everyone, yes? Just pretend this didn't happen? After all, anyone who would be insane enough to attack the Champion _and_ the child hero of Britain is clearly acting on their own!" Fudge, as usual, was in his saving-face-by-pleading mode.

"HEY!" Sirius shouted angrily. "Aren't we forgetting someone?"

"You want to talk about Potter? Come with me," Moody rapped Sirius on the shin with his staff. Looking back at Dumbledore, Sirius only received a wink as the headmaster resumed his arbitration of the argument shouting contest.

"So, you've got a plan to help Harry? Nobody knows how to " Sirius asked once they were alone.

"Help? I've seen those knives before; this one's just a variation on an idea. But before I extract it, I need something from you."

"From me? You're making demands?" Sirius asked.

"Not a demand. Just a request. Think about it this way- What if he's an imposter, and the real Harry's stuffed into a closet somewhere? I'm just asking for a few memories, Black. Some from last June, and a few from December for comparison."

"Just get him better. Then we'll talk," Sirius said.

This time, when they got to the infirmary, they had to wade through a crowd of students to get inside. Apparently, news of Harry's critical condition had spread, attracting throngs of friends and enemies alike.

"…and that's why you should never let your pet vampire grow too big," Luna was saying. Somehow, she had managed to sneak past Madam Pomfrey and was now having a one-sided conversation with Harry. Hermione didn't mind the off-kilter distraction the young blonde was providing, concentrating on Harry instead. "Hi Allie!" Luna waved. "Is that Stubby Boardman?"

"Hello, Miss Lovegood. Have you made any interesting observations? Any ideas on how to help your friend here?" Moody's false eye swivelled back, looking through his skull towards the infirmary entrance. Nobody else was coming in.

"Clearly, Harry's been involved in a part of the Rotfang Conspiracy. This must be the first of the prosthetic teeth," she said, pointing to the knife, "although they'd have to find a way to make it much smaller, because something like _that_ would be unwieldy to have inside your mouth all day."

Sirius stared incredulously at the girl. He knew the Lovegood name from Xeno Lovegood, and the infamous Quibbler as well. Apparently the quirkiness of the magazine was more of a family trait than a business practice. As for the Stubby Boardman comment… well, he wouldn't deny his own dashing good looks, but that man died when he was still in Hogwarts. It had been all over the news. And what was this conspiracy she was talking about? "She seems to be rather… friendly with you, Moody."

"I've discovered that she's got a knack for noticing things after I've already seen them. You just need to interpret her correctly. The last two people she accused of being part of that Rotfang conspiracy happened to have performed illegal blood magic. They both also suffered from halitosis, so I'm not sure if it's just coincidence, but just wait and listen…"

Luna continued to babble, ignoring the adults. "It's almost like a snowflake," she said, commenting on the mixture of crystal and veins, just barely visible underneath the skin. "It's a shame you can't melt it. Muggles say vampires melt in the sunlight, but I think this would look very pretty and glittery in the sun. Garlic wouldn't help Harry either. Maybe some sandworm saliva would dissolve the knife, but we don't have any of that around, do we? I guess we could also dissolve Harry's body. Could I keep the knife?"

Moody laughed. "I'm sorry, Miss Lovegood, but it _is_ a dark artifact. I'll have to turn it into the Ministry."

"Oh pooey. It's so pretty," Luna sighed.

"Wait… you aren't taking her seriously, are you?" Sirius's eyes widened. Hermione looked at him questioningly, but only because it looked like Madam Pomfrey was completely serious as well. She was rearranging the beds in order to give Moody more room to work with, and casting a few isolation charms to prevent the other students in the infirmary from being disturbed.

"A little bit of battlefield tactics, my friend. Sometimes a procedure we invented in the heat of the moment turns out to be one of the most effective ones," Moody answered. He handed his staff over to Luna and stepped up to Harry's bedside. "It does take a bit of space to perform properly, though," he added as he waited for Pomfrey to finish clearing the way for him.

Grabbing Harry's arm firmly, Moody's body quickly began to fade and turn into a swirling white smoke that enveloped both of them. The smoke turned thicker, completely shrouding them from view, and suddenly shot across the room. The sound of shattering glass coincided with the whirling missile's sudden upwards arc across the ceiling and back down to the bed. It was over in a second, with Harry back on the bed and Moody gripping both Harry and the bed frame. He let go of Harry's arm, and steadily lowered himself into a chair.

Madam Pomfrey was ready with a full bottle of essence of dittany, which closed up the haemorrhaging wound in Harry's shoulder speedily enough to prevent a great loss of blood. But by his pale complexion, he didn't have that much blood left to lose. "Is he going to be alright? What did you just do to him?" Sirius asked.

"He'll be fine. If the stories of the basilisk are true, then this is nothing," Moody said. "Just a little side-along fumation. Haven't had to do that for fifteen years now… not as easy as it used to be." Seeing that Sirius was still wanting for a better explanation, he added, "It's like splinching, except you do it deliberately and precisely. And Miss Lovegood, don't touch that knife!"

Luna was on the other side of the room, where the knife had been ejected. She wasn't trying to pick up the knife, but was inspecting its crystalline protrusions so closely her nose was almost scraping one of the many barbed points. "They're like little trees. Harry had a garden inside of him," she concluded. She continued to watch as the blood on the knife receded down the "branches" and into the handle, leaving the weapon a dull white, like frosted glass.

"Now we just need to know where that blood was sent," Moody said, levitating the knife and sealing it in a box labelled "DARK ARTIFACT – DMLE USE ONLY."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Haven't you already said it was the Malfoys? If the aurors aren't already on it, I'd raid that manor myself."

"Don't be hasty, Black," Moody warned. "You don't want to be thrown back in Azkaban so soon after you got out. I've already contacted Amelia and Scrimgeour about it, but I'm going to need your help on the legal side of things. Just to be sure, I need to know if I can trust you," he whispered. "I'll tell you more once the ladies are done."

Madam Pomfrey and Hermione were finished cleaning up the wound. Harry remained unconscious throughout the ordeal, but Pomfrey was satisfied after a quick scan. She insisted that Harry had to recover under his own strength now that his condition had stabilized, having used so many potions already neutralizing the dark magic and the blood loss; he could overdose if he had any more. That meant he'd have to remain in bed for the next week, minimum.

* * *

That meant Hermione was now wearing her swimsuit, beside Ivan and Fleur, on the docks at the edge of the Black Lake. Ludo Bagman had hastily informed her two days ago that she was to compete in Harry's place, due to some vague rule somewhere on the fiftieth page of random parchment that Harry was forced to sign at the beginning of the tournament. In short, she was marked as the "champion's consort" or something like that and was allowed to compete in his place in case of grievous injury that was not due to a tournament event.

Ivan didn't seem to consider her a threat. She knew what was going on in his mind- this was the girl that was dating Harry Potter, nothing more. He remained overconfident about Harry and gave him little respect; was there any doubt he'd do the same for his _mere_ girlfriend? As much as Hermione preferred to watch the tournament than participate, she knew she had something to prove and this was probably her only chance to prove it.

As for the boys in the audience, she could feel their eyes on her, and it wasn't anything like the New Year's Ball. How did Fleur put up with it? She looked over to the French witch. Oh, yes, she revelled in it. _That_ was how she handled it. At least most of them were concentrating on the girl that had experience with all the attention. She didn't even know why a swimsuit was officially considered the proper attire for this event- well, other than for the cameras that were clicking away non-stop. Even Ivan was getting his fair share for _Witch Weekly_. Hermione, the plain daisy out of the three, decided to run the plan through her head one more time.

She didn't have gillyweed this time. She didn't have a ready-made map. In fact, she had little more than a swimsuit, a wand, and a trinket or two that was lying around Gryffindor Tower. At least she wasn't wholly unprepared- she still remembered watching most of the event last time (until Sirius had interrupted), and she was still a better swimmer than Harry. Her plan was more or less to do what Harry did last time, but with a few shortcuts.

Ivan and Fleur dove in as soon as the signal sounded. Hermione stuck around on the dock, summoning one of the rowboats nearby and stepped in gingerly. She cast a locomotion charm, sat back, and dipped an Extendable Ear into the water. The ear worked well enough underwater for her to locate one of the chests; and if her judgement was right, she was already far ahead of the competition.

The oars were transfigured into flippers, and she cast a bubble-head and a warming charm on herself to prepare for the descent. The final transfiguration turned the wooden boat into a large lead weight and rocketed downwards, holding on for dear life. As she saw the thick algae forest come up, she let go. The lead weight formed a path through the algae and it created a shockwave as it hammered the lakebed that scared or stunned all the creatures nearby. Hermione faced no resistance when she picked up the chest.

_You have nearly claimed your prize_

_The egg you seek is just inside…_

So the riddle was identical to last time. Rather boring for her, but it would help put Harry in a substantial lead. Fresh water from her wand, ice for the second, and flame coral for the third. She vaguely remembered a coral somewhere to the northeast area of the lake. "Point me." The wand move slowly and unsteadily in the water, but it succeeded in getting her bearings.

As she approached the reef of burning coral, she saw that a few selkies were playing around. They noticed her as well and wasted no time in seeing what entertainment Hermione could provide them. They swam up, poking at the bubble surrounding Hermione's face, tugging at her fins, and trying to get at the chest. "Hey!" Hermione shouted, trying to wave them away. Undeterred, they made snatches at her wand. One was almost successful, causing her to drop the treasure chest and grab the wand back with both hands in order to prevent it from snapping.

The selkies wasted no time grabbing the treasure chest after Hermione dropped it. They proceeded to swim away with it and toss it around and fiddling with the locks. Some tried smashing it with a rock to no avail- Hermione wouldn't have minded if they did manage to open it up for her. She needed to distract them, though the rules of this particular trial forbade her from hurting the selkies and mermen directly. Knowing that grindylows were natural predators, she pointed her wand to her arm and lightly cast, "_Diffindo_."

The salty water stung the wound as it bled freely, but Hermione calmly waited and followed the Selkies as they continued to play. The smell of blood attracted the grindylows within minutes; she healed her wound with an _episkey_ once they were in sight. The selkies fled well before the grindylows arrived, allowing Hermione to pick up the chest without a fight. Casting a stream of boiling water behind her stopped the little water demons from giving chase.

The remainder of the task was routine- breaking off some fire coral and sticking it to the first lock; conjuring enough ice to release the second, and fresh water for the third opened up the last one. Not using gillyweed this time gave her an advantage over Harry's results- she didn't have to wait for the magical herb to wear off before surfacing. It had taken Harry just over an hour to finish the task; even with the selkies getting in the way, it had taken Hermione less than half that.

Both the judges and the crowd were flabbergasted when Hermione climbed onto the dock bearing a golden egg. After drying off, she had nearly an hour to watch the other champions explore the murky depths of the Black Lake. Just like last time, Fleur was well out of her comfort zone and had trouble dealing with all types of sea creatures, not to mention being bad at swimming as well. Even the giant squid seemed to take pity on her, making some lunch out of a few jellices that were starting to swarm around. Ivan didn't make the same mistake as Krum did when the selkies stole his chest; instead, he took the route of scaring them off with a grand show of magical power instead of attacking the selkies directly. That earned him a solid second place and Fleur third.

* * *

_**Potter Picks Potent Partners**_

_By Rita Skeeter, Witch Weekly guest writer_

_For all you young witches still hoping to snag Harry Potter's heart, it may be time to put away those perfumes and pick up your wand! It seems that Potter prefers power over pretty. For those of you who haven't been keeping up with the Triwizard Tournament, here's the latest scoop: Harry Potter himself was attacked on school grounds (see cover story for more details) and is now recovering in the Hogwarts Infirmary. Competing in his place was his girlfriend, Hermione Granger._

_What's that, you say? You've never heard of Granger? You've never even seen her before? Well, that's no surprise, folks. Ms. Granger is a muggleborn, and thus has no ancestral history of magic of any sort. According an anonymous local source, "She's utterly forgettable. Nobody would have noticed her if she didn't have her arms wrapped around Potter all day." Blaise Zabini had slightly better things to say, including, "She cleans up nicely. I don't think anyone recognized her at the New Year's Ball. But day-to-day, she's got nothing on those Beauxbatons girls."_

_So, if not for looks, what could Harry Potter see in a girl like this? Well, we got a bit of a clue last Saturday. Granger completed the Trial of Water in less than a third of the time of the second-place finisher, Ivan Kolov. Some would argue that Potter himself could have done better, but there's no denying that this witch packs a punch. Not only that, but she has been leading a student study group that both OWL and NEWT students consider the best thing since the _Panis Inciso _charm._

_Potter is scheduled to return to the tournament for the Wandless duel, just under a month away! We at Witch Weekly wish him a speedy recovery!_

"I totally could have done better," Harry quipped humorously as he tossed the paper back at Hermione. She swatted his leg with it. He'd been slowly recovering- he was practically reliving second year as he had to regrow his collar bone, two ribs, and a bit of lung. The colour had returned to his face and he was awake and alert, but Pomfrey insisted he stay in bed for at least another day. "Any news on the Malfoy front?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. Take a look at this," Hermione said. She tossed him a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

_**Misfortune Strikes Malfoys Again!**_

_By Reginald Shillings_

_The Malfoy family has been making great strides lately in the Wizengamot, being the leading proponent of Magical Heritage Preservation laws that have irked many opponents, including the famous Albus Dumbledore. Most famously, he has worked tirelessly to restore the Black family name, which had suffered grievous losses in the last war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Years after suffering his own losses from a long-term Imperius curse, his son has now fallen victim to the very same curse._

_Theories are abound as to who could be the culprit, but for now the Malfoy family is in hiding for fear of their safety. The young Malfoy was witnessed performing acts of dark magic he had never learned before in an attack on the current star of Hogwarts, Harry Potter. Some suggest that framing Malfoy to attack Potter was a way of creating a rift between Malfoy and Sirius Black, head of the Black family and Potter's godfather. As Black's mistrial thirteen years ago was the cornerstone of Malfoy's stance against the hasty prosecutions of prominent wizarding families at the end of the war, a feud between the two would have ended his chances of appealing for re-trials of many of those in Azkaban._

_Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge gave the official position from the Minister's office: "There are those who, when feeling discontent, resort to violence and deceit instead of voicing their concerns openly. This attack on the Malfoys, Harry Potter, and the Black family is clearly an attempt to systematically dismantle the strength of Magical Britain one family at a time. We must provide these "heritage families" with greater protections, lest we allow the people who made this country what it is to live in fear!"_

_Dumbledore, both Malfoy's greatest opponent in the Wizengamot and one of the central figures in the mistrial of Sirius Black, also commented, "The dark wizard that Peter Pettigrew was working under appears to have struck again. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot to ensure the safety of every witch and wizard in Britain, and not just the ancient and noble families."_

_The DMLE has made no confirmations of any connections between last summer's capture of Peter Pettigrew and this new attack on the Malfoy family._

"I should have expected that," sighed Harry. "Malfoy's still got the minister in his pocket, along with half the Wizengamot. At this point I'm wondering if defeating Voldemort will really change anything."

Hermione sat down and rubbed Harry's shoulder reassuringly. "One battle at a time, love."

Harry grinned. "By that, do you mean Voldemort, the Ministry, the Tournament, or Dumbledore?" Getting bored of his pillow, he leaned on Hermione's arm instead.

Hermione ran her fingers through Harry's hair. "We can always hope that Voldemort will keep Dumbledore off our backs, the Aurors will defeat Voldemort, Dumbledore weeds out the corrupt Wizengamot members, and we can just finish school in peace." When their eyes met, the staring contest lasted only three seconds before they broke down in laughter.

"Will the two of you keep it down in here?" hissed Madam Pomfrey. "I know you're feeling fine, Mr. Potter, but _do_ have some respect for the others, will you?"

"So why do I have to stay? I think all of us would be happier if you'd let me walk out the door right now," suggested Harry.

"Not possible, Mr. Potter. Dark artifacts can have delayed effects. We need to keep you under observation for at least another day," she reminded him while passing a tray of food over.

"Yes! Real food!" Harry cheered as he dug into the standard Hogwarts breakfast. "Those nutrient potions are so bland... would it kill you to flavour them with a little chocolate?"

"No, Mr. Potter, that could compromise the integrity…"

"Sure it's possible. We've practiced it with Mr. Fleming. You just don't want students faking injuries to get some delicious potions, do you?" Harry and Hermione both laughed- Hermione had been secretly flavouring Harry's potions during his recovery.

"Well, it's never a good idea to encourage bad habits," Madam Pomfrey said. "I'm sure plenty of students… especially the workaholic Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws would rather nip a tasty nutrient potion from my cupboards than spend their time eating a proper meal." She started waving her wand over Harry, concentrating on where he'd been stabbed. "Does anything feel unusual, Mr. Potter?"

"Nothing's wrong at all," Harry said. "In fact, I'm… I…" His fork clattered on the ground as his eyes rolled up to the back of his head.

Hermione recognized his symptoms at once. _Why now?_ she thought.

* * *

There were a great many more people surrounding Harry when he awoke. Some he expected, some he didn't. Hermione was hugging him protectively. Luna was poking at his scar curiously. Moody was arguing with Sirius while Dumbledore were being held back by Madam Pomfrey. Professor Trelawny was attempting, unsuccessfully, to get to Harry's bed. Snape stood away from the group, watching everyone else stoically. Harry tried to assess the situation as best he could. With two of the most powerful and experienced wizards in all of Britain beside him, fighting his way out of the situation was out of the question.

"The blibbering humdingers are leaving," Luna announced, bringing everyone's attention back to Harry.

"Potter. Welcome back," Moody grunted dryly.

"Alastor, please." Dumbledore motioned for everyone to be silent. "Harry… I believe it's time for you to explain. Has a power like this manifested itself before?"

Hermione nudged him. "You told my parents already," she hinted to him.

Harry nodded in acknowledgement. "Right. Yes, I've had a vision or two," Harry admitted.

"You see? He has the inner eye within him!" Trelawney shrieked in excitement. "Dear, dear Potter, you must return to your divination studies! You have potential to be as talented as my great-great-grandmother, Cassandra!"

"Please try to contain your excitement, Sybill. You may speak to him at your leisure after he's been released from the infirmary." Dumbledore gently directed Pomfrey to guide her to the door. "Now, Harry, as you've witnessed one of Professor Trelawney's prophecies before, you already know your visions are unlike hers. Please tell me what you just saw."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Snape palm a tiny vial of colourless liquid. "Voldemort," he answered. Snape stiffened and instinctively grabbed his arm. Moody muttered under his breath. Dumbledore dropped his hands to his sides, smiling knowingly. With everyone's eyes still trained on him, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to get away with such a terse answer. He added, "He's got himself a body now."

"So your visions are not of the future, but of present day?" Dumbledore concluded. Harry nodded. "And Voldemort is always the subject of your visions?" Harry nodded again. "I believe Miss Lovegood caught on long before many of us," he said, grimly. "That cursed scar of yours is linking you to your parents' murderer."

Harry held back the urge to roll his eyes, and decided to play dumb instead. "I don't know what's worse, the visions of Voldemort, or the visions of my future being like Professor Trelawney."

"There, there, Harry, you were always a horrible seer," Hermione reassured him.

"Nevertheless, you need to take more precautions. This connection between you and Voldemort could go both ways; you must close your mind to him at all times," Dumbledore explained. "He was a master legilimens. Perhaps you should train your occlumency with Professor Moody."

Harry was surprised, as he had never considered the possibility. He always maintained a low-level occlumency shield out of habit, but perhaps it was time to step up his efforts a notch. If Voldemort were to get a hold of any of the information in his head… well, disastrous would hardly describe it. "Yes. Absolutely," Harry agreed immediately. "Could Hermione come along, too? And Ron as well?" That would round out the trio, and perhaps Ron would be more inclined to practice it this time.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. I believe once a week should be sufficient?"

Harry nodded. "We'll still be continuing with fumation lessons as well, right?"

"You've already experienced its potential uses firsthand. No doubt our lessons will continue."

* * *

"You should have let me question him some more," Moody growled unhappily. "He didn't explain anything at all!" He slammed his cane on the office floor, causing Fawkes to squawk.

"We can already make a few deductions, Alastor," Dumbledore said. "We know he is pulling far more than just _visions_ from Voldemort. He must be gaining knowledge as well- and perhaps some emotion." He recalled the cold reception Harry gave to him at the Ministry that summer. This would easily explain the boy's sudden change in attitude, knowledge, and magical ability. Those inexplicable blood runes, the Parseltongue, and his newfound affinity for the Chamber of Secrets- it had to stop soon.

"Even if I teach him the finer points of occlumency, are you sure he's going to use it?" Moody wondered. "Because if it were me, I'd be pulling as much knowledge as I can to use against the dark lord. I'd be working day and night to master everything to fight him on equal ground."

"And that is the difference between a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff. Harry does not _want_ to be on equal terms. He will face Voldemort when he feels it is necessary, not when it is prudent- and that can be an advantage in itself. We _must_ befriend him, Alastor, because so long as he is assured we have things under control, he will not act. If he is to become Voldemort's equal by taking Voldemort's essence, our savior may become our enemy's successor- the start of a dangerous cycle. We have to keep him on our side, shut out the temptation, and avoid all dark magic."

Moody nodded in understanding. "So, for these occlumency lessons… do you want me to teach first, or probe first?"

"You _are_ the head of security for the year. I will leave it to your discretion," Dumbledore replied.

Moody hobbled out of the office and down the moving staircase. When Dumbledore was certain the magic eye was far out of range, he mumbled to himself, "_…power the Dark Lord knows not… power he wants not…_" He opened up the cabinet to his pensieve, and extracted a bottle labelled "Trelawney interview, 1979" and poured it in.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Another problem with the epilogue: here's an issue of overt messages vs. implications. Albus Potter is afraid of being sorted into Slytherin, and Harry tells Albus that Slytherin isn't evil and he won't be mad at him if it happens. Yay, that means 19 years later, Slytherins are good and the houses get along, right?

No.

Assuming that Harry actually comes home from work often enough to help raise his own children, he wouldn't have been teaching Albus that Slytherin is bad. Heck, he might have even explained the kid's name. So where does Albus get the idea that Slytherin is evil? Society. _Everyone else_ in the Harry Potter world still believes Slytherin is evil. Good old discrimination is still as strong as ever.

- Also, a few thoughts on fics that use the "Ginny love potion" idea. Personally i think it's kind of a cheap cop-out to end the canon relationship, but at the same time I can see why it's so common. In fact, if it were canon, by the time it was revealed I would have been thinking, "Well, that was pretty obvious." Why do I say that? Symbolism, pretty much. Let's look at love potions in the entire course of Harry Potter:

Love potions mentioned in Book 2. Ginny stars in book 2 as the damsel in distress. We have Gilderoy Lockhart as the ultra-fake celebrity, and Ginny as an ultra-fangirl.

Love potions almost never mentioned again until Book 6. Ginny remains in the background until book 5-and-a-half-ish.

Then comes the Half-blood Prince: Love potions are sold by Fred and George. Love potion is shown in class. Love potion is suspected in Tom Riddle Jr.'s conception. Love potion poisons Ron. Ginny is suddenly everything Harry could ever look for in a girl and is not a fangirl, but has true, genuine love for him.

Really?


	58. The Lightning Strikes Silently

**Author's Notes:** JK Rowling didn't use her full name because the publishers thought it might not sell well to boys. I'm not using my full name because I'm not selling this at all.

- Sorry for the really long wait for this chapter. You know what the problem with taking a break from writing is? You have to re-read what you wrote before to try to remember where you were going.

* * *

**Chapter 58: The Lightning Strikes Silently**

Upon learning about Harry's strategy for the wandless duels, Fleming gave Harry a few ideas for his potions arsenal. They took a break from their usual NEWT-level potions curriculum to practice brewing and modifying a few potions for combat. Harry's proficiency with explosives, as learned from the twins, surprised Fleming, but he considered them crude and "uncivilized." He preferred to teach Harry an assortment of more intriguing, subtler brews. While the majority of them were essentially medical potions, they were modified into an aerosol form in order to work as a possible weapon. This presented them with a full two weeks of safety protocol for potion inhalation.

"This is a particularly amusing one I learned while vacationing in Amsterdam," Fleming explained one while triple-checking their bubblehead charms. "It causes the person to mistake their eyes for their ears, their tongues for their toes… take a large enough dose and putting on a pair of slippers could become a deadly affair."

However, there was one last potion that Fleming refused to teach them; claiming it was still a personal secret that he wouldn't pass on until he was about to retire. He gave Harry only one bottle of it. "My gift to you," Fleming explained. "Just drop it on the ground and watch. And give yourself a good distance immediately afterwards."

Harry was grateful for the gift, but resolved to use it only if he absolutely had to. He wanted to win the tournament with only his own (and Hermione's) skills, this time.

Just before they left, Fleming held them back and gave them another pair of brown parcels.

"What's this?" Hermione asked. Harry was already unwrapping his, and Fleming stayed silent to let them find out for themselves. The string and paper fell away to reveal a dark green mass of leather. It was soft and supple, unfolding easily and comfortably in Harry's hands. Fully open now, it was revealed to be a simple leather hooded cloak, large enough to be worn over his robes and reach down just below his knees. The clasp bore the insignia of Fleming Apothecary and Potions- a stylized self-brewing cauldron, with the rising steam shaped like a hand sprinkling ingredients. A patch over the left breast area had a similar logo.

"I just picked these up from the tannery and had them cut into cloaks yesterday. Exactly what I expect from you in our future projects, by the way," he explained. "This is the first batch of basilisk hide that you harvested. If I were you, I'd have been more cautious about testing my first tanning potions on such rare material, but it seems you two have the right to be confident in your abilities."

Harry was taken aback by what Fleming had done with the hides. He had expected uncut, tanned leather, even though he had intended to sew it into a cloak. The leather was fairly thick and hung heavily on his body, but still gave way easily when he moved his arms. "Thank you, Master Fleming- it was your instruction after all," Hermione politely told him as she opened her own parcel and trying it on like Harry.

"I suppose this comes just in time for the next event of the tournament," Fleming commented. "In fact, I will want you to wear this cloak whenever it is allowed in the tournament, as well as your student club. It will be good advertising for my new expansion into the British Isles."

"Thank you," Harry nodded in understanding. "I just wish the colour didn't make me look like a Slytherin."

"Slytherin? Ah, yes, I forget your school divides the student population by their sleeping areas. Is the difference so important?" Fleming asked.

"No… not particularly," Harry had to admit. Especially with the establishment of the SNAPE Society, the unity of the student body was better than ever. He still couldn't shake the feeling that the cloaks might not be well-received in the Gryffindor common room, though.

Harry and Hermione thanked him again and put them on after he flooed away. As soon as the green flames died out, Harry complained loudly. "These were _our_ basilisk hides! What right does he have putting his logo all over them? We're supposed to advertise for him in our student club?" For one thing, the SNAPE Society had grown from simple potions lessons to a by-students, for-students club. It was like a corruption of the foundations.

"He _is_ the source of almost all our teaching material," Hermione said, playing the devil's advocate. She felt used as well, but tried her best to be level-headed about it. "And… well, we _are_ his apprentices. We still have a lot more to learn from him, and we can't just… ignore his orders like that. At least the stitching's nice...?"

* * *

Harry needed a pick-me-up, so Hermione suggested they see someone they'd neglected for a while- Hagrid. Since they'd dropped Magical Creatures and burdened themselves with the extra lessons, club activities, and preparation for the tournament, neither of them had much time to chat with Hagrid; even Harry, when picking up feathers for his new brooms was often so busy he only spared a few minutes at a time. Harry would be glad to relax and catch up with his jolly half-giant friend again. Incidentally, he was the one friend of Harry's who could really pick him up.

"Harry! 'Ermione! I been meanin' ter talk abou' tha' Trial o' Fire!" Hagrid greeted them both with an arm around each, lifting them clear off the floor. He'd missed them about as much as they were missing air this very moment.

"Sorry… for… being too busy… to visit…" Harry coughed out when he put them down. Hagrid hurriedly put on some tea while they sat down. "What is it about the Trial of Fire? That's still months away. I've still got three other trials to go through, first."

"_Dragons, _Harry! Yeh think maybe you could… er… bring yours a little closer to my seat when it's yer turn? I never get ter see 'em up close…"

There were a thousand different reasons why Harry shouldn't lure a dragon towards the audience, but they all tried to leave his mouth at the same time and left him hanging slack-jawed. When he finally managed to get his mouth working again, he simply replied, "I'll see what I can do, Hagrid."

"Thanks, Harry! I tell yeh, you'll be doin' great in tha' tourney! Say, is tha' some kind of serpent-skin the two of yeh' got there?" he asked, noticing their new cloaks.

"Basilisk skin, Hagrid. You know the monster in the Chamber of Secrets? The one that… er… landed you in Az… well, you got blamed for?" Harry winced as he inadvertently brought up memories of Hagrid's sordid past. "Well, we got around to making use of its body."

"Ah," Hagrid replied simply. "Good riddance to tha' snake then." Harry and Hermione were both surprised to hear Hagrid speak ill of a creature for the first time. "Well, just make sure yeh never go into the forest wit' those cloaks on, yeh hear?"

"Why not?" Harry asked. "They're supposed to give some pretty good protection."

"Well, yeh see, Harry… yeh remember my wee little pet spider? Aragog?" Harry stiffened at the mention of the giant man-eating tarantula. "Well… he don' like snakes, yeh see. If he smells yeh in the forest wit' that on, he might not be as friendly as normal."

_As if a spider could get any ruder than trying to eat me_, Harry thought, shaking his head. "I'll be sure to stay away from Aragog, Hagrid."

"Attaboy, Harry. Say… yeh' got any spare snake meat?" Hagrid asked.

"Are you talking about the basilisk? Yeah, plenty," Harry said. "But that stuff's toxic… well, to us anyway. Even you might get a stomachache from it."

"Oh, it's not fer me, Harry. Aragog's been hiding in his nest. Won' come out to talk, even fer me. I think he migh' be feelin' a little down. Maybe it'll make him feel better. You know, eatin' the meat of his mortal enemy an' all."

"Would eating basilisk meat really help him get better?" Hermione asked. "Maybe he should see a beast-healer?" Harry's eyes went wide, silently kicking at her ankles, furiously trying to inform her that was a very, very bad idea.

"I don' think any healer would want ter look at 'im," Hagrid sighed. "But if it don' make 'im get better, at least he'll feel better. It was hard ter find 'im good meat when he was a baby, bein' in hidin' all the time." He half-giant let out an aptly-sized sigh before sipping his tea. "Speakin' o' which, have yeh seen Buckbeak lately?"

"Not since Christmas," Harry answered. "But if you can ask Sirius about him tomorrow! He's coming to Hogwarts to drop off some equipment for my duel. And he's officially named Witherwings now. If you call him Buckbeak it could get Sirius in trouble."

Harry explained to Hagrid about Sirius's new broom company. Opting for hippogriff feathers instead of abraxian, Buckbeak was instrumental in helping Sirius and Remus manage their new herd and providing the feathers for their first prototype.

"I'm glad the two of 'em are friends. Not many people take a likin' ter the cute beasts." Hagrid got up from his chair. "Well, it's time fer me ter feed the blast-ended skrewts. Gonna see if they like eatin' floor cleaner 'n guano."

"You… er… still haven't figured out what they eat yet?" Hermione asked, bewildered. "They're taller than the students, now. How'd they get so big if you couldn't find food?"

"Well… they eat everything, really," Hagrid frowned. "But I still haven't found a food they like better than eatin' each other. Only got abou' four left, if none of 'em got hungry since lunchtime." Although they were sorry for Hargid's breeding experiment failing, they were very glad this extremely dangerous abomination was driving itself into extinction. Since the blast-ended skrewts were one of the main reasons they chose not to return to Care of Magical Creatures class, they politely excused themselves from the hut.

* * *

Sirius arrived while Harry was still in classes. By the time he was finished, he found his godfather talking to Madam Hooch, carrying more equipment than Harry had been expecting him to bring along. Apparently he and Remus had already completed half a dozen brooms, and decided to bring all of their stock to Hogwarts in a large trunk. When he saw Harry approaching, Sirius quickly pulled a broom from the trunk and rushed over. "Harry! Just who I needed! Come on, you have to demonstrate these brooms for me!" Harry found himself with a feather-broom shoved into his hands before he knew what was going on.

"Madam Hooch doesn't believe these are safe," Sirius said. "Come on, Rolanda. You saw how Harry performed in the Trial of Air!"

"Don't get too familiar with me, Sirius- I've had a dozen broommakers try to sell me their wares, and more than half of them were Hogwarts students I taught, too. As for Harry, I recall seeing his broom nearly fall out of the sky by the time he managed to cross the finish line," Hooch countered.

"That was the first version," Sirius said. "This one's made to last more than one race. Hey, you remember Remus. Not much of a flier. I tested these brooms on him. He can fly them just fine."

"Maybe I should just give a demonstration," Harry said. He mounted the broom and quickly flew up into the air. In his honest assessment, he had to admit it wasn't nearly as manoeuvrable as his own design- and obviously, much less dangerous. In fact, it was somewhere between his Nimbus 2000 and the Firebolt. He put the broom through the paces of a standard Quidditch warm-up flight.

Meanwhile, on the ground, Hooch was still being reluctant with the strange new style of brooms. "You might not know this, Sirius, but Harry managed to do all of that the first day he touched a broom. One of our old _school_ brooms, mind you; the same ones you and James learned on."

"So you admit they can't possibly be worse than the brooms you've already got?" Sirius joked.

"Sirius, maybe you need to think of hiring an official spokesperson for your new company," Hermione suggested. "Madam Hooch, what if I take a ride on those? You know I've never been much for flying… I'm probably average at best." Hooch agreed, and Hermione took another one of the brooms, taking flight to join Harry high above. The ease with which she managed to follow Harry's lead convinced Madam Hooch to accept Sirius's offer.

"Alright, Sirius. Or should I call you Mr. Black now? You'll leave me with those six brooms as samples, and if all goes well you'll find an owl with an order to replace the entire Hogwarts stock this summer."

Sirius whooped, grabbing another broom to call Harry and Hermione back to the ground while sharing the good news. With Madam Hooch gone to discuss the details with Dumbledore, Sirius opened the large trunk and brought out a smaller box. Harry pulled out his pet project that he had started at Sirius's house over the winter holidays.

"You know, Harry, this isn't exactly what I had in mind when I told you that you could do anything you wanted with the family jewellery," Sirius said, still curious about Harry's project. "I thought you'd just, you know, give them away to a few fine dames of Hogwarts."

Harry put the wooden gauntlet on his right hand. He was by no means a glover, and it fit poorly, though it was functional. A few simple runes etched in the wood connected about twenty random gemstones plucked from the Black family collection. It was a far cry from the expertly-crafted goblin glove that Cedric had used in their last time around. "Time to see if it works," Harry said optimistically. He charged up the gems using his wand until they shone with a brilliant lustre.

"How were you planning on casting spells with that?" Sirius asked.

"I haven't got that down yet," Harry said. Raising his right hand, he activated the rune that was placed in front of the knuckles, releasing an uncontrolled burst of magic. It came out as a bright, warm flash that generated a burst of wind that flattened the grass as it travelled across the field until it dissipated. Every gem attached to the gauntlet dulled right away, indicating the entire device was drained.

"I get the feeling that's going to be limited in its usefulness," Hermione said. "Are you sure you want to use it in the next event?"

"Couldn't hurt as a backup plan," Harry shrugged. "We'll see when the day comes."

* * *

The day came with pelting rain over the Quidditch stadium, which made hauling all his equipment all that much harder. Despite having only two duels this time instead of three, Harry had just as much piled up inside the champion's tent as he did last time. At least they weren't all full of potions and explosives- he only had two boxes of battle brews to lob at his competition. Two other boxes held identical copies of Sirius's brooms, and the last one had his home-made casting gauntlet along with his basilisk-leather cloak. Harry wondered how well his (well, Sirius's) brooms would hold up in the rain- along with several of his potions he had planned.

The officials seemed to be shocked every time they opened each box. Evidently they'd been expecting more traditional equipment, although Harry wasn't sure what qualified as "traditional" in a magical duel without wands.

If Durmstrang was any indication, they were big on tradition. Ivan was carrying a staff and wearing the same dragonscale armour that Krum had used last time around. Harry wondered if staff magic was an actual course that was taught at that school.

"Two questions, Mr. Potter. Are you actually planning on _flying_ on those things during your duel?" The referee waved his hands at the brooms.

"Yes, of course. They're not wands, so they're allowed, right?"

"Then if any of the judges feel it is necessary to cast a cushioning charm if you should fall, then that will be the end of your duel."

"Fair enough," Harry said. "Just don't cast it too early. I have a few tricks of my own."

"And secondly, none of these potions are to be imbibed?"

"I wouldn't mind if Fleur or Ivan took a whiff of them," Harry answered. That was his plan, at least, until the weather had changed for the worse. He hoped the rain and wind wouldn't put an end to his strategy.

The referee nodded, ticking off a few notes in his parchment and went on. "Your first duel is against Mr. Kolov. You have ten minutes to get ready. Good luck, Mr. Potter."

Harry immediately put on the cloak and charged up the gauntlet. Out of the vast array of potions he had brought along with him, he skipped over the immolating potions. They wouldn't do very well in the rain. The smoke-based ones wouldn't last long in the wind, either. He took a look at Fleming's potion- he was expecting Ivan to be the tougher of the two duels, so he brought it along. He still had no idea what it did, and using it almost felt like cheating- especially if it was as powerful as Fleming implied it was. Then again, the Durmstrang armour was so thick it was practically cheating as well.

He did feel a little sorry for Fleur. She was doing impressively, coming from a school that had almost no magical combat tradition behind it, unlike Durmstrang. Technically Hogwarts didn't either, but it _did_ have a recent history of dark lords, dangerous beasts, and soul-sucking hellspawn, so it was just as good, really. While stepping outside for the introductions, he noted that she was carrying a different sword than last time. It had a white blade, and it wasn't on fire. He couldn't get a closer look before he and Ivan were pulled out to begin their duel.

As they faced each other, waiting for the duel to begin, they were both predictable enough to the other. The belt full of potions and the broom made things obvious; Ivan knew Harry was going to fly high and bombard him. Ivan, on the other hand, wasn't nearly accomplished at occlumency as Krum had been. Harry could tell he was flip-flopping between going for a defensive posture or attacking straight away. Ivan settled on an immediate attack before Harry could fly safely out of range.

That made Harry switch to a counter-tactic. He palmed one of the potions as they bowed, and as soon as the referee signalled to start, he jumped on his broom and shot upwards. Ivan slammed his staff behind him, releasing some spell that launched him forwards towards Harry, crossing the length of the arena in a matter of seconds. He began twirling his staff below Harry, readying another quick spell to strike Harry, who was already at a safe altitude.

Suddenly, Harry flipped over on his broom, braking hard and then shot downwards, as if he was performing an upside-down Wronski feint. He barrelled towards Ivan and threw the potion he had palmed earlier down at his opponent's feet. It immediately bubbled, releasing a hallucinogenic gas that would have knocked Ivan out cold. At the same moment, Ivan released his spell which missed completely, as Harry was moving so quickly and so close. Unfortunately for Harry, the rain, combined with the imprecise nature of staves, quickly swept the potion away.

Knowing the weather reduced the chances of that potion working, he already prepared another assault. Without skipping a beat, he pulled an extremely tight turn on his broom, skimming the ground as he whipped around Ivan. The g-forces forced him to lean almost horizontally, but that let him stay even lower. When facing someone on a broom, most people wouldn't expect an attack from below. Ivan certainly didn't.

Harry released the potion right by Ivan's leg. He missed his intended target, the less-armoured area behind the knee, but luckily enough, it struck his staff instead. The lengthening potion was intended to make Ivan hilariously lopsided, but ended up making the staff unwieldy. Harry flew up and away to safety to evaluate the situation once more.

Despite his ability to attack being greatly hindered, Ivan didn't give up. He resorted to simpler spells that required less staff movement, and they were simple enough to dodge for Harry, given their distance. Not wanting to be fouled for being too passive, Harry cracked open a pebbling potion, which showered Ivan in stones that were quite a lot larger than pebbles. The distance between them was an advantage to Ivan in this case, allowing him to dodge most of it and let his armour absorb the rest.

"It looks like we have reached a stalemate," Ivan declared. "Except that you can run out of potions, but I do not tire easily."

"We'll see about that!" Harry shouted back. His hand ran through his belt. Frostbite potion- he only had one, and he needed to be close enough to bypass the armour. Liquid light and Bottled Night- two potions that worked well together, but he needed to be precise with them. Fleming's potion was always an option that he didn't want to exercise. Stoneskin might weigh Ivan down, but had a bad side effect of making his skin nearly impenetrable as well. Softening potions- he was planning on saving them for the ground in case his broom failed. If he used it on Ivan, he'd find his limbs flaccid, effectively the same as a jelly-legs jinx. If it worked on the staff, it would leave it (more) unfit for spellcasting. If he was really lucky, it would soften the armour, but that depended on how magic-resistant the dragonscale was.

Mind made up, he dove down towards Ivan. In response, his opponent swung his oversized staff over his head to prepare a simple banishing spell- slow and predictable, but it could easily blow a potion vial away if Harry threw it too early. It was down to a matter of timing. He approached at speed, closing the gap in a second- thirty paces… twenty… ten… despite looking like he was going to crash head on, Ivan didn't budge. At five paces, when Harry was nearly close enough to get physically struck by the staff, Ivan cast the spell. Harry threw the potion.

Harry was struck hard on the shoulder by the staff, getting knocked off the broom as he flew past Ivan. The spell from the staff was released harmlessly past him, and the potion struck its mark- dead center on Ivan's chest. The referee shot a yellow flare from his wand. "Muggle combat!" he yelled.

"I was attempting to cast a spell. I did not think he would come so close," Ivan shouted back. Looking over at the judges' table, they were still deliberating. He took the opportunity to undo the straps on his armour, which was now mostly dead weight. Harry also stood up rubbing his arm. His right shoulder was tender, and he knew there would be a large bruise for the healers to take care of. At least nothing was broken. A magical cloak didn't give much physical protection- and Harry realized he'd been overconfident with the spell protection the cloak gave him. Finally, the judges came to an agreement- no foul. Ivan had been casting a spell.

They resumed the duel, both at the starting positions once again. Harry wasted no time, taking advantage of the less-defended Ivan by throwing the remainder of his pebbling potions at Ivan. Fist-sized rocks rained down, which Ivan was forced to dance out of the way. Using his vambraces to deflect what he couldn't dodge, the boy came out only lightly bruised, but obviously tired. With very few potions left for direct assault, Harry knew he had to soften Ivan up a little more.

Once again, he dove down towards Ivan, holding the Liquid Light potion. This time he was a little more cautious, not wanting to get struck by the staff again, but it also allowed Ivan to safely cast the spell as he approached. While the magic didn't manage to banish the potion back completely, it shattered on the tip of the staff and a little splashed on the ground, as well as Ivan's leg. Where the potion had splashed, it started glowing, faintly visible in the stormy sky. Most of it was already getting washed away in the rain.

Harry popped open the second part of his attack, Bottled Night. This one produced a stream of darkness that completely blocked sunlight, but not other sources- useful for astronomers, and in this instance, good against people who couldn't easily cast _lumos_. He circled around the arena as quickly as he could, filling the air with the black, silky smoke as if he were wrapping the entire platform up like a present. Ivan was casting wildly at Harry, knowing he couldn't let Harry finish. Just as the bottle was emptied, he managed to land a lucky hit on Harry's broom feathers.

Harry landed hard on the ground, but since he was only a few feet high at the time, it wasn't a big problem. The real problem was that a dozen potions shattered at once- freezing potion, softening potion, a few sensory-swapping and sleeping potions were now mixing dangerously on the ground, along with the broom, which was now sparking and popping. He jumped up and ran. The blowing wind forced him to move towards the light at the other end of the platform- Ivan.

Toxic smoke, or a big guy with a big stick? Harry had five seconds to decide. He took a deep breath and held it. His reserves were down to two potions- Fleming's potion, and one freezing potion. He had his gauntlet, fully charged and good for only a single shot. He just had to stay out of the smoke longer than Ivan, or knock Ivan out of the arena.

Harry ran towards Ivan, hoping that the sounds of explosions would mask his presence. In the darkness, Ivan was slowly marching forward towards the center of the duelling platform, keeping himself guarded. The gauntlet wouldn't be powerful enough to blast him out of the way. Ivan noticed the sounds of footsteps, and saw a flash of movement just in time to prepare a spell. As he released it, Harry threw the freezing potion, coating the ground in ice.

Harry let his cloak absorb the brunt of the magic and continued to charge forward. As Ivan prepared another spell, Harry leapt forward and slid. The rain that was falling wetted the fresh ice, making it especially slippery and rocketing Harry right past Ivan's feet. He took advantage of this and raised his left hand, releasing the raw magic at Ivan. The flash knocked Ivan forward, and the ice caused him to slip to the ground. Harry continued to scramble away from the smoke.

At the edge of the platform now, he could only make out the glowing tip of Ivan's foot and his staff. He saw Ivan stand up and raise the staff… and then the staff quickly dropped to the ground, along with the leg. He'd done it, and without using Fleming's potion! He waited for a few seconds, expecting the end of the duel to be called. What was going on? His eyes still weren't fully adjusted to the artificial night, but he could tell the crowd was still there. He could definitely hear them.

Then he realized- the judges couldn't see inside the light barrier that he had set up with the Bottled Night. The air was starting to smell acrid- the potions would soon affect him, too. If they didn't end the duel soon, he'd need proof he won, after they dispelled everything. He took another deep breath and ran towards Ivan. He grabbed the staff and tried to run back, but slipped on the ice. The wind got knocked out of him and he involuntarily drew breath as he crawled away as quickly as he could, firmly grasping the staff as he went. The rain was soaking his hands. His shoulder ached and he was growing more tired by the second. The sounds of the audience tasted annoyed, and the darkness was getting itchy. _Oh, wait, that must be the sensory-swapping fumes hitting me_, Harry thought. _This is ridiculous. I swear I'm never going to duel with potions again…_

* * *

…_Except this one more time_, Harry reminded himself as he bowed to Fleur. Officially declared the winner of the duel against Ivan, Harry was given less time to rest as he now faced off against his next opponent. Ivan was still taking potions to counter the many effects of what he inhaled.

Harry mounted his broom, and was surprised to see wings immediately burst from Fleur's back. She chased him into the air, giving him no room to rest safely. Harry wondered about the sword she was carrying, trying to figure out how it was enchanted. It was ridiculously spiky, almost like a thin Christmas tree made out of bones.

"I wasn't expecting you to fly," Harry told her as he circled from a safe distance. "I thought you didn't enjoy being in your Veela form."

"It would be ridiculous not to. Anyone wiz such talent on a broom would surely use it in zis event, and from the ground I can do nothing," Fleur answered as she flew towards Harry. He hadn't been expecting her to fly right off the bat- and much of his strategy, stupidly, had depended on her being on the ground. Throwing a potion at a moving, flying target was going to be hard, and almost impossible given the deflecting shield that Fleur was using. He'd have to get up close and practically slap her with the potion if he needed to guarantee a hit. With one of the stoneskin potions in hand, he charged towards Fleur.

Unexpectedly, she swung her sword well before they were near and spun away to her left. A few of the spikes detached from the blade, miniature knives that flew towards Harry. He dodged out of the way- it wasn't much harder than dodging the harpies in the Trial of Air, but it did catch him by surprise. The knives arced around and re-attached themselves to Fleur's sword. Suddenly, he realized that his entire plan was reversed- he was the close-range fighter while Fleur could strike from a distance.

He had to dodge another flock of flying blades before he could collect his thoughts. Again and again, Fleur was trying to end the duel as quickly as possible. Harry had no trouble anticipating the attacks with his legilimency and avoiding it with his reflexes, but the trouble was his offense. He tried sprinting towards her after she swung her sword once more, but was nearly stabbed in the back by the returning blades. He threw the sensory-switch potion at Fleur in a half-hearted attempt, which she repelled with her shield.

Seeing no other choice, he resorted to using his gauntlet- but it was good for only one shot, and he had to make it count. He'd follow it up immediately with a potion and possibly end the duel in a single attack. Pulling himself close to his broom, he charged towards Fleur once again. She launched the blades towards him, and again he dodged by diving underneath her. The knives were on their return trip towards her as Harry rose up behind Fleur. He pointed his left hand at her back and released the charge on his gauntlet, intending to blast Fleur into her own knives, and pulled out a potion with is right hand to follow.

But she saw it coming. She folded her wings into her body and flipped backwards, allowing the energy from Harry's gauntlet to pass over her harmlessly as she dropped like a stone. Harry's follow-up potion was quickly brushed away by her shield once again as she spun around, catching the flying blades and releasing them one more time in a single, fluid motion. Harry didn't have time to admire her dance-like grace, and couldn't manoeuvre his broom well with only his legs.

The split-second delay to grab the broom once more cost him, as he was caught by three of the blades. Thankfully, the thick leather cloak provided a little protection and prevented the knives from piercing anything vital, and one of them was embedded deep into the wood on his gauntlet. When the knives wriggled their way out of his flesh, it stung even worse than when they went in. Ignoring the pain, Harry forced himself to grip the broom and concentrate on another solution.

That was when he noticed the one stuck in his gauntlet was still attempting to pull itself out. He yanked it out, feeling its light pull drawing it back towards Fleur. He pulled a random potion with his other hand and stabbed the knife deep into the cork stopper, and let go.

The knife flew back at Fleur as expected, and the bottle shattered as the knife re-integrated itself with the rest of the sword. A patch of grey rock started to grow over Fleur's weapon. _I guess that was the stoneskin potion_, Harry thought. It was obviously starting to weigh Fleur down, but she attempted one last swing. Less than half the knives actually parted from her sword this time; the rest were now encased in a layer of rock.

With fewer knives to manage, Harry deliberately let one strike his gauntlet once more, keeping a good grip on it before it returned, and this time attached an explosive potion to it. Fleur, realizing her weapon was a liability now, dropped her sword as Harry let go. The knife and the sword met in mid-air and the explosion sent the sword flying into the barriers protecting the audience.

Harry was glad to be able to revert to his original strategy. With one of his sleeping potions in hand, he charged straight at Fleur once again. Without any other weapons, she resorted to her natural Veela fire, which was weakened by the rain and dissipated harmlessly by the basilisk hide. The fireballs didn't faze him at all, and now Fleur was on the run. Over, under, and around, Fleur was trying to get away from Harry, but he had the obvious advantage of using a broom. She was initially pulling seemingly impossible feats of flight that Harry wished he could emulate, but was quickly growing tired. Flying under her own power was much more taxing than holding onto a broom; her evasions were getting sloppier.

Harry noticed that, due to her fatigue, she was tending to dodge downwards more often. He finally intercepted her as she dove again, flicking off the cork on the sleeping potion and drenching Fleur's hair with it, and flew away to prevent himself from suffering from the same effects. The results were immediate- Fleur, being physically tired, was overcome with sleepiness and stopped flapping her wings. As she dropped to the ground, the magical wings retracted into her back. Harry held his breath and swooped down to catch her, gently lowering her down to the ground where the mediwitches took over with their _levicorpus_.

* * *

As Fleur circled over Ivan like a vulture impatiently waiting for its dinner to finally fall down and die, Harry was getting an interview from the reporters. Sirius and Hermione were at his side, being questioned as well.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black! No doubt everyone's noticed the… _brooms_ you used. Are they the same as the one you used in the Trial of Air?" asked a reporter from the _Quidditch Inquisitor_.

"It may be based on the same general design, but I've made a few changes to make it more accessible to the public," Sirius laughed. "Not everyone's a natural flier like Harry."

"What changes are we talking about? These will be available for purchase?"

"Well, for one thing, a barrel of malt whiskey a day is rather expensive, so we opted not to use abraxan feathers," Sirius began. "But the point is that kids will be able to fly around on these after they get out of school. There should be a good number available in stores by then."

A reporter from the _Daily Prophet_ commented on Harry's cloak. "That's Fleming's logo for his new apothecary, isn't it? Does this mean you've chosen your future career already?"

"Oh no, certainly not," Harry said, sighing. "Fleming's skill and knowledge were quite instrumental in my performance today, and in the making of this cloak…" Before Harry could finish, a few owls flew into the stadium, each delivering messages to the _Daily Prophet_ reporters. They apparated away immediately, leaving Harry bewildered. "What was that about?"

This time, two aurors apparated into the field. "Sirius Black?"

"What's this about?" Sirius asked.

"We'd like you to come with us," they told him. Their wands were already drawn.

"Hold on, Sirius. You're not under arrest. You don't have to go anywhere unless they explain what this is about," Hermione reminded him.

"It's a security concern." The other auror was already ushering all the reporters away, and trying to get Harry and Hermione away from Sirius as well.

"Anything I know, they can know," Sirius said firmly, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Now tell me what this is about."

"We just need you for some questioning. There's been a… breach of security at Azkaban. We're hoping you can help us with some of your _unique_ expertise."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I have a problem with the the "choices" message that J. K. Rowling tried to convey. Dumbledore tells Harry that it's his choices that make him who he is. Right, great message. Except in the rest of the series, Voldemort didn't seem to make choices to be evil. He was just born evil. Tortured rabbits as a little kid. Conceived via rape with a love potion and without any parents.

Dumbledore tells Harry that they are very similar and that it's Harry's choices that make him different from Voldemort. I find that telling every mixed-race orphaned child that they are only a few decisions away from being a murderous animal-abusing sociopath a bit of a stretch. Some might call it an outright lie...


	59. Pieces

**Author's Notes: **JKR has full rights to mess up canon. I'm only messing up fanfiction.

- As deep and interesting as people say Harry Potter is, there's quite a few things that keep me from considering it a "serious" book series. For example, themes like "The principal of your school is the most powerful person in the world" is completely appropriate for a children's series. The fact that world-altering events and deadly terrorists need to visit a school and have a kid save the day is, again, completely appropriate for a children's series. It's just... if you take it seriously, and _really_ question why these things should happen, account for personal responsibilities... everything's broken.

- Why _skulls_? Related to the point above. You are attempting to take over the world, but you need support from old, rich people with lots of political influence. Do you make the symbol of your group a _skull_ to let everyone know you're evil? Jeez. Even in real life, people who want to undermine other people's rights and give themselves more power still try to sound nice and friendly, like the Stop Online Piracy Act. Not acting very Slytherin there, Voldy.

* * *

**Chapter 59: Pieces**

The fumation lessons Dumbledore provided Harry were giving the headmaster critical information. As Moody had known for a while, but bound to stay silent under contract, there were definitely runes for memory involved in Harry's blood runes. Draco Malfoy's attack had been quite the blessing in disguise, giving the former auror warrant to delve deeper into his investigation and share it with the headmaster. Whose memory the boy had acquired, though, was the question of the hour. Moody believed it was James Potter's memories; Dumbledore could see how blood magic would easily lead to such conclusions. However, he couldn't shake the suspicion that it came from a far more sinister source; that of Voldemort- or, at least, a _piece_ of Voldemort.

Unlikely as it was, he was working on the suspicion that Harry himself was a horcrux. He knew that Voldemort had performed the ritual at least twice; evidence of one (possibly his first) had been left behind in Hogwarts. And when he removed all the books from the Restricted Section of the library that contained any reference to the dark ritual, he obviously had to read through them himself first. While he didn't know as many intimate details on how to split a soul as Voldemort did, he certainly knew the fundamentals.

However, Voldemort's defeat at the hands of the infant Harry Potter was missing a critical element. Harry Potter was nowhere near the ritual circle where Voldemort had planned to complete his sixth horcrux. Still, this was unprecedented magic. Nobody had ever made six horcruxes before, nor had anybody ever survived a killing curse before Harry Potter. He chalked up the differences to the mysteries of the ancient and primal magics- it was the only way he could make the result fit with the prophecy. He needed this prophecy to be complete, and fulfilled. Dumbledore wished that Trelawney had never communed with her inner eye that night- but more so, he wished that nobody had overheard them. A prophecy unheard was a prophecy without power.

Was Harry ready to fulfill his role in the prophecy? Last year, Dumbledore would have said yes, but now he needed to re-evaluate the boy. That meant stretching out the lessons so he could spend more time with Harry, but he was just learning too quickly. This was only their fourth lesson and Harry was ready to begin fading his body. The pattern by which the boy was learning was indicative of great use of occlumency- he could perfectly replay a memory for further practice on his own. Dumbledore needed a way to waste more time with Harry.

"Very impressive performance at the duels, Harry. However, I would like to make one small request before we continue our lessons," Dumbledore said.

"And what's that?"

"You see, a great number of people were watching the duel; many noticed your excellent skill with potions. However, when they questioned me about the Hogwarts potions curriculum, I could not truthfully tell them that you learned it from our potions professor."

"Snape? Obviously."

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry."

"He's not my professor any more, sir."

"But he _is_ still a professor at Hogwarts. I would ask you to give him the same respect you would give me."

Harry stared blankly at Dumbledore, vividly recalling the overheard conversation from his previous timeline. "That won't be a problem… _sir_."

"Excellent, Harry. Could I ask you to attend a few of Professor Snape's classes? At least, for the sake of Hogwarts' reputation."

"Are my future fumation lessons dependent on my attendance?"

"Oh, I certainly wouldn't leave you hanging halfway through these lessons. Consider it a request," Dumbledore explained, his eyes displaying his trademark twinkle.

"Alright then. It could be a learning experience," Harry accepted. "On with the show, then! Do you think I could attempt a full fading today?"

"Not quite so fast, Harry. I've already explained to you the dangers of fading your entire body; first want to show you a few memories of a few wizards who used this technique in battle. Come over here- this is a pensieve…"

* * *

"What a complete waste of time!" Hermione muttered in an angry whisper. "He spent an _entire hour_… I mean, this _week's_ lesson just to tell you that smoke is affected by the wind?" She kicked the legs of her desk in frustration. "Unbelievable. What's next, a month to tell you _Voldemort was a bad person_?"

Harry laughed out loud. "And part of that deal was to attend a class or two of Snape's. I suppose he's running out of subtle options. Or maybe he thinks I'm still that naïve. The Azkaban breakout probably has him worried about Voldemort, and he wants to figure me out before he deals with He-who-doesn't-have-a-real-body."

A pair of spells shot towards Harry, which he instinctively blocked with a shield. "Potter!" Moody yelled. "Pay attention!"

Harry straightened his back and faced forward. "Yessir!" Hermione held back a giggle at his overstated response. Moody wasn't quite so amused- he was drilling the class harder than usual, and the students without Harry's reflexes didn't fare so well. Several students were unable to look at anything other than the blackboard; others had their spines frozen in perfectly good posture, which made packing up and leaving rather difficult.

"Mr. Potter, stay after class for a few minutes. There's something important we need to talk about," Moody said. "And this is a private matter, Miss Granger. You're going to have to leave the room," he added when he saw Hermione stop as well.

"I'll meet you at Gryffindor tower," she said. "Be careful," she whispered into his ear as well, disguising it as a kiss on the cheek.

Harry, wary of being trapped in a room alone with Moody, immediately strengthened his occlumency shields and readied the releases on his wand holsters. Moody made no moves, other than rearranging the parchment on his desk. "Have a seat."

Harry sat down, now trying to find a reason to avoid looking Moody in the eye. Nor did he want to stare at the door and appear desperate for escape. After sitting in silence for a little while, Harry asked, "Uh, sir? What do you want to talk to me about?"

"We're waiting for our other guest to arrive. Be patient."

Harry expected Dumbledore to come striding through the classroom door at any minute. He furiously ran scenarios through his head, seeing if there was any safe way of getting out of it. Moody obviously had protections on the door. What about the windows? Probably reinforced from entry- did he anticipate Harry jumping out of them? And Moody's eye would probably catch Harry unholstering his wands before they were even in his palms. Maybe he would be forced to play dumb. Could he get to Hermione in time, even if he managed to get away? Flying up to the tower would be the fastest way, but Dumbledore already knew Harry was an animagus. Harry kept his panic attack when the doorknob turned and the hinges creaked open.

An unmistakably un-bearded wizard in unmistakably un-colourful robes stood at the door. He would better be described as buck-toothed, brown-haired, and entirely unsure of himself. "S-sir? You wanted to see me?"

"Come on in, Longbottom." Harry gawked in relief and disbelief. Despite the extracurricular training with Harry, Neville was still scared witless by Moody. Seeing Harry there with him helped calm him down. "Do you know what I've called the two of you here for?" Moody asked.

"Azkaban?" Harry guessed. "Did Pettigrew escape?"

"Not just him," Moody answered. "But four or five others, too. The Lestranges among them." He violently uncapped his hip-flask and took a long swig, slamming it down on the desk when he was done. "Blast those fools," he said. "Black finds a way to escape prison last year, and they change nothing."

Another draught helped calm him down. "But that's none of your concern. Lestrange, that's the problem. Dumbledore thinks the two of you shouldn't know this on account of sullying your innocent little childhood…" One look at the two boys told him everything he needed to know. Harry snorted at the mention of Dumbledore, while Neville was starting to show an emotion his meek self rarely expressed- anger.

"But your head in the sand is just a target on your rump. So I'm telling you now. The Lestranges are the last living Death Eaters who were present on the attacks on both your homes. They might just be crazy enough to try to finish the job."

"Wh… what can we do about it? I need to warn my Gran!" Neville squeaked out.

"You don't need to do anything, Mr. Longbottom. Your grandmother's already under auror protection. The two of you just need to stay here, at Hogwarts, and maintain…"

"Constant vigilance," the boys finished unenthusiastically.

"As for you, Mr. Potter… don't you even think about chasing them down like you did with the Malfoy boy. You're not ready. You can out-duel any other student in the school- or all three schools, to be frank- but don't believe for a second that counts for anything against the likes of the Lestranges."

Harry couldn't argue. The name "Lestrange" summoned vague memories in the back of his mind, all centered around death. The _joy_ of death. He may or may not have faced them before; he couldn't remember, but people had died around them. Was it Cedric, or Sirius? Remus, perhaps? Somebody had died by their hands while he watched. He knew he was stronger than he'd ever been in his other pasts, but there was no way to truly test his skills. When Neville got up and left, Harry walked out with him.

* * *

"Damn it all!" Neville raged at wall, while the portraits nearby fled to other frames. He continued to kick and pound the stone as Harry watched, unsure of what to do for his friend. He chose to stay silent, keeping others at bay to let Neville work off his anger.

He decided it was time to intervene when Neville pulled out his wand. "Whoa, Neville! I think you should put that wand down. I mean, that wall's probably your friend. It's doing an excellent job of keeping the ceiling up and I don't want it to change its mind…"

Neville didn't acknowledge Harry, but he did drop his arm down to his side, and slowly sat with his back against the wall. With his head on his knees, he stared at the floor and asked Harry, "What can I do? I'm not even as strong as you, and Moody said you're not ready. It's supposed to be my turn… and I can't do anything."

"Wait, what do you mean it's your turn? You don't have to be the hero, Neville. In fact, I can tell you that being a hero is kind of an unfulfilling job, for the most part."

"No offense, Harry, but you wouldn't understand. You've got it easy. Your parents are gone."

Images of his parents, the one he saw in the Mirror of Erised, flashed in Harry's mind. The one thing he wanted, but could never have. The childhood he could have grown up with instead of the Dursleys. Long after the mirror was gone, he still dreamed of the life it showed him- desires of the heart didn't disappear that easily. In his anger, he grabbed Neville by the collar pulled him up to his face. "Easy? You think my life without my parents is easy?"

"You don't have to worry about them!" Neville broke free from Harry's grip with an angry shove. "My parents are still alive! They're still out there, at St. Mungo's, while all I can do is sit here at Hogwarts and do nothing, while the people who put them there are walking free!"

Harry didn't know how to respond to that. It was true- he didn't _owe_ anyone anything; at least, not anyone living. Anyone who he chose to defend was his choice, and so far it was only Hermione and the Weasley family. He offered Neville the only thing he could think of. "Nothing? You could be training. Nobody's achieved anything through moping."

Anger turned to jealousy as Neville advanced on Harry, pulling his wand from his pocket. "That's easy for you to say! You're Harry Potter! Skipped two years over the summer and you're _still_ at the top of your class!" Neville flung a leg-locker curse at Harry wordlessly, which Harry blocked. "We can't all be geniuses like you!"

Harry didn't say anything, but stuck to defending himself. Given the numerous amount of schoolyard jinxes, the most dangerous of which was a _Petrficus Totalus_, Harry knew Neville was still in enough control to not really try to hurt him. He kept a shield up, hoping Neville would calm down eventually after venting long enough. Meanwhile, he tried to judge the strength of the spells Neville was sending his way. He certainly wasn't as powerful as last time around, under Moody's training, but it seemed that Harry's duelling lessons had been great for his roommate's magical strength. He didn't have time to feel proud of himself, because the portraits had long gone and Professor McGonagall had arrived.

"What is the meaning of this?" If her stern voice wasn't enough to cut in between them, her wandwork certainly was. Harry and Neville both found themselves playing the part of human cockatiels, dumbly sitting in cages that had been transfigured straight out of the floor. "Well? Fighting in the hallways? What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Neville looked clearly ashamed, reverting right back to his introverted self in the face of their furious head of house. "Sorry. Forgot?" Harry said. While a poor excuse, it was pretty close to the truth. Being a champion in the tournament over and over for several years made Harry a little heedless towards the rules.

McGonagall was not impressed- the look of disappointment said it all. "Mr. Longbottom… twenty-five points from Gryffindor, and two nights' detention. Mr. Potter, another twenty-five points. I'd give you detention as well, if it didn't interfere with your training for the tournament."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to serve detention with Neville," Harry said. Both Neville and McGonagall's eyes snapped towards Harry with incredulity.

McGonagall waved her wand and the cages disappeared. "Are you sure, Mr. Potter?" As he nodded, a hint of pride flashed across her normally stoic face. "Very well, then. You can both head to my office immediately and wait for me there." She spoke to a few of the portraits as they left.

The two boys walked silently for a few floors. As they reached McGonagall's office, Harry spoke up. "Did you realize you cast most of your spells nonverbally, Neville? You're not as weak as you think."

* * *

It was Sirius's idea to accompany Neville and his grandmother Augusta to St. Mungo's for his final visit to his parents; at least until the Azkaban breakout incident blew over. Nobody had bothered to mention to Sirius after his own escape that the auror couple were still alive- just barely. Having fought side-by-side during the last war, Sirius felt obligated to see his surviving comrades. Most of the others had died towards the end of the war- Voldemort's attacks had been escalating and the Order was doing more fighting as the Ministry was being corrupted from the inside out. The members of the Order had been whittled down- first the Bones family, then the Prewitts, McKinnons, with the Potters and Longbottoms at the end of the list. Sirius chatted with Harry about his old allies as they walked towards Hogsmeade.

"From what I remember, Frank and Alice were two of the strongest wizards in the Order of the Phoenix. Next to Moody, they took down more Death Eaters than anyone else," he recalled. "No question that they were the strongest pair. The Prewitt brothers were a close second, though."

"How about my parents?" Harry asked, eager to know more about his family.

"James and Lily were another great pair, for sure, but… how should I put it… they weren't quite the side-by-side combatants that the Longbottoms and Prewitts were," Sirius said. "James would usually go charging into the thick of things with me, and then Lily would heal us up afterwards. James was pretty protective of her, but she knew how to defend herself when the going got tough. The Longbottoms, on the other hand, they were both aurors. Partners at work and at home. They knew each other; their strengths, weaknesses, style. That team had the highest capture rate in the Order. Of course, Moody was the best solo fighter… but he never did trust anyone but himself to watch his back."

"Is that why Neville's grandmother is so hard on him? She wants him to be as powerful as his parents?" The Howlers were legendary at the Gryffindor table during Neville's first two years. Anyone who caught a glimpse of the old Longbottom matriarch at the train station knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Is she? Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Frank told me a few stories of his mother. Old lady Longbottom would never accept anything but the best. She threw a fit when he announced his engagement to Alice, saying she wasn't good enough for her son. Calmed down a little when she found out they met at work, and Alice had beaten his old scores at Auror Academy." He laughed a little, then muttered darkly, "Still, I couldn't stand that old hag. Always acted like she had half a vulture stuck up her arse and the other half stuck in her hat. Don't tell her I said that."

Harry laughed as well, recalling the incident with Neville's boggart in his third year.

"It was a shame to lose them," Sirius said. "James and Lily as well. I keep thinking that we might have been able to turn the tides, but after they were out of the fight, things _really_ started to go downhill."

Harry was confused by Sirius's statement. "What? Didn't the war end when Voldemort killed my parents? And weren't you in Azkaban by then?"

"Huh? Oh no, I don't mean it like _that_. I meant getting pregnant," Sirius said, laughing. "It was really strange. It had been a rough year already, and Dumbledore called a meeting for all the members a few days after Halloween. No strategy talk this time, though. It was just a motivational speech about love in times of war and all that jazz. Next thing you know, Alice, Lily, and Marion all got knocked up within a week. They all decided to pull out of the front lines and stay at home. Well, except the Bones couple. We didn't find out about Marion had been pregnant until after she died, along with her husband."

Alarm bells began ringing in Harry's head. This was too much of a coincidence. Moreover, he wondered about why he was even conceived in the first place. Usually an odd question to ask, but it _had_ been in the middle of a war, a war in which both his parents actively fought in. Right in the middle of it, they… decided to _have a child_? He allowed Sirius to continue without saying a word. "It was the death of Edgar and Marion that got Dumbledore scrambling for security. Put the Potters and Longbottoms both under the _Fidelius_ charm. You and Neville were born only a day apart." He stopped in his tracks and gave Harry a hug. "The rest of us had to work a bit harder without them at the front lines, but I don't blame them. I've got you now. And Moody got a peg leg out of it," he snorted. "He doesn't blame them either, even if he always wanted more troopers."

* * *

When they arrived at St. Mungo's, Sirius pulled a photo frame out of his pocket and showed it to Harry. It was a photo of himself, Peter Pettigrew, the Potters and the Longbottoms, all posing in ludicrously heroic stances. Peter had been singed out of the photo. "We were the youngest members of the Order. The others had a nickname for us. 'Flaming Fledglings' or something like that. It was… kind of fun, despite the crazy life-or-death situations. I was planning on giving that to Neville. You think he'd enjoy it?"

Harry was surprised to learn that his parents had been so close to Nevilles'. Nobody had ever mentioned anything of the sort to him, and Neville probably didn't hear these kinds of stories from his grandmother. "I hope so. I'm not sure what he thinks of his own parents; he doesn't talk about them very much." He handed the picture frame back to Sirius before stepping into the floo, fully prepared to come tumbling out the other side.

His sooty coughs were masked by the coughs and sneezes of the ill wizards that filled the waiting area of St. Mungo's. Sirius helped him off the floor and they approached the front desk together. "Tap your wand here and a mediwitch will come see you in due time," the witch at the desk said.

"We're here for a visit. Could you point us towards the long-term ward?" Sirius asked.

"Janus Thickey Ward's up the stairs. You'll have to talk to a Healer to let you in," she answered without looking up.

Harry and Sirius made their way to the entrance of the ward, where Neville and his grandmother were waiting. An auror that Harry didn't recognize waited behind them. Neville waved meekly at Harry, while Sirius was just concentrating on looking everywhere but the vulture hat. The owner of said hat looked like she was trying to smile at Harry and glower at Sirius at the same time. "Healer Strout's going to let us in soon," Neville informed them.

Harry nodded to his classmate, then offered his hand to Mrs. Longbottom. "How do you do? I'm-"

"Now then, Neville, why haven't you introduced me to your friends yet?" Mrs. Longbottom cut Harry off to nag her grandson, making him wince. It was impossible that she didn't recognize Harry, given how much _more_ famous he had become as the official Hogwarts champion, but proper manners was more important than meeting superstars. Neville did as he was told, but it was a relatively useless gesture- Harry just waited awkwardly to repeat the same motion, while neither Sirius nor Mrs. Longbottom wanted to be nearer than necessary to each other.

With nothing else to do to pass the wait, Harry turned to the auror. "Excuse me, your name is…?"

"Ferricuff. Don't mind me… I'm party here for Madam Longbottom's protection, and partly to investigate whether or not Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom are under the threat of an attack." He refused to answer any more questions after that.

Healer Strout let them into the ward, motioning for them to stay quiet as they walked. The entire ward had an eerily clean feeling. The hallways seemed to be untouched, but peering through the windows showed that the rooms were polar opposites. One of them had scuffed floors from a man pacing endlessly between two tiles. Another was entirely padded, but the cushions were ripped and the stuffing strewn about. The charmed doors did a good job of keeping the noise down, but within arms' length everything could be heard. Harry couldn't help but feel drawn to each one, to try to see what was wrong.

"WOULD YOU LIKE MY AUTOGRAPH!" A bright, toothy, perfectly-aligned grin slammed into one of the doors just as Harry walked by, making him jump back in shock. The former professor Lockhart continued to babble, but now that Harry was further from the door, the silencing charm had kicked in. Harry noticed that, despite his dementia, the man never failed to stop and flash a perfect smile every five seconds or so.

"We're here." Healer Strout unlocked the door for them. She and the auror continued down the hall, presumably to continue his investigation, leaving them to visit the patients in private. The room was sparse, but at the same time, well-furnished for a hospital. There was a coffee table with an empty vase and an empty bowl; Frank and Alice sat in two recliners facing a window with flowery drapes. Mrs. Longbottom immediately began sprucing up the room- a flower in the vase, some lemon drops in the bowl. Neville took Sirius's gift to a desk with several other photo frames. Harry followed him and noticed his parents were in a several of them, smiling and waving. His mother was in another, holding him as a baby. Right next to her was Alice Longbottom, holding a newborn Neville.

"I just remembered. The two of you were almost born on the same day," Sirius whispered. Harry tried to look to Neville for conformation, but he'd already walked around to his parents. Frank showed very little response. "Come on. I think it's time for us to say hi."

Alice was looking at her son- at least, in the general direction. She seemed to stare through him; but that was more than could be said of Frank. He didn't seem to notice anyone in the room at all; his motionless gaze made him look like he had died with his eyes open. The intermittent motions of blinking and breathing came more as a surprise than a relief to Harry. Alice was a little more responsive, especially when Neville took her hand. A small twitch at the corner of her mouth made it look like she was trying to smile for an instant, but it faded away just as quickly.

Sirius sat down across from Frank and explained at length about why he his long absence and his time in Azkaban. Although Frank didn't appear to be listening, Harry didn't want to interrupt. He turned to Neville, who was just sitting silently, holding his mother's hand. "I don't know what to say to her any more. It seems like I ran out of things to talk about years ago," Neville said softly. "It's the same thing every time. Even after first year, I tried to show them some things I learned at Hogwarts. Tried to turn a matchstick into a twig and set the tablecloth on fire. They didn't bat an eyelash."

"Well, you can't just stop trying. There's always the chance they can tell what's going on, but can't react, right? You should show them what you know, just in case."

"I suppose so. What's the most impressive spell you've taught me, Harry? The patronus?"

"Well, I wouldn't try the bombardment curse inside a hospital," Harry answered, eliciting the first grin on Neville's face all day.

Neville took a few tries to form his patronus. The first few times was just the silvery mist, but the final one took a cloudy, animal-like form that moved around on the ground. It wasn't corporeal, but certainly impressive for a fourth-year. Neville's grandmother was undoubtedly surprised at her grandson casting a difficult spell, but it ended abruptly when Neville suddenly shouted in surprise. "Mum?"

All eyes jerked back to Alice, who was sitting as usual, with her eyes where the patronus was seconds ago. "She moved! I'm sure of it!" Neville cried desperately. "Get Healer Strout!"

"I'm on it," Sirius answered.

Elated, Neville tried again. This time, his patronus was even more well-defined; Harry could make out a pointed snout from the cloudy silver mass. More importantly, though, Alice Longbottom looked like she was trying to follow the patronus's movement as best she could. Her hand twitched. Neville tried to guide the patronus up to his mother's lap, but it dissipated once again.

Seeing her response powered Neville's final attempt as Sirius and the healer returned. This time, it formed into a corporeal echidna, which leapt up into Alice's arms and disappeared. The seconds ticked by tensely while nothing happened at all. Suddenly, Alice tensed up and took a deep breath. While everyone stared in shock and scrambled, wondering what to do, no one noticed Harry collapse.

* * *

Harry knew this feeling well by now. The feeling of being outside his own body and in someone else's, seeing through their eyes. Another vision, another chance to scope out information on Voldemort's whereabouts. He tried to get his bearings, but this time everything was bright. Extremely bright. Voldemort liked to hang out in deep cellars where he couldn't be found. Harry thought that he was in the middle of a desert at high noon.

Except it wasn't hot. He still couldn't get his bearings, and he couldn't see anything other than bright light. Then he realized there was nothing- no ground, no sky- just light. Also conspicuously absent was the aching on his forehead. It was surprisingly calm and quiet- no noises, not even any thoughts from his host- but there was an emotion: fear.

A speck appeared in the distance. Movement. White on white; impossible to tell what it was.

It was small.

It was an echidna. A silvery-white echidna. It sniffed at Harry for a second. The fear subsided, and so did Harry's senses.

He woke up again, and everything was black. Pain, this time- but he wasn't experiencing pain. More like the _memory_ of pain. He couldn't see anything, although he could hear. Scuffling, shouting. _Crucio_. That word triggered Harry's own memories. Yes, that was the pain being remembered here. _Crucio_, again. And laughter, mad cackling laughter. Another _Crucio_.

He heard the rustle of a waddling monotreme nearby. The pain subsided. Harry's senses went black again.

This time, he was blind and deaf. But he could feel something in his arms. Warm, soft, cuddly. Squirming. It was a baby. He wanted to protect it- no, _they_ wanted to protect it. But they weren't strong enough. A few prickly spines brushed his leg. His senses faded again.

Sight and sound returned once more. Everything looked blurry, sounded muffled. Someone was leaning over him. Someone important. He tried to reach out… and everyone suddenly moved. It was too fast; he couldn't keep track of where they went. The important person finally reappeared at his left again, long enough for him to recognize. He tried to reach out again. Someone else was there. Behind the important person… didn't like them. Another person entered, someone familiar. Familiar but not close. They put their hand in front of his face. Someone was grabbing his arm. Everything faded again.

Harry woke up in a large, white room. Bright, like his first foray into this world. At least there were walls and a floor this time. He walked forward, bumping into a desk. Then he noticed the entire room was filled with desks. All white. It was some kind of classroom, but not Hogwarts. He noticed something shuffle behind one of the desks, and walked towards it. He nearly threw up at what he saw.

It looked like a mangled corpse; so badly damaged he couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. Shrivelled up almost like a mummy, but still alive. It reminded him of what a dementor would look like without its cloak. It reached out towards Harry. He scrambled backwards in panic. Then he noticed more of them.

Behind every desk, there was another one. They pulled themselves towards him, sliding their broken bodies on the ground. None of them could stand. A few of them didn't even have the strength to move at all, weakly pawing an arm on the ground towards him. Bloody red masses in the white background; they kept appearing. Harry's back hit the wall behind him. There was no escape.

Suddenly, a familiar silver echidna appeared at his feet. It ran to the advancing line of half-dead corpses... and began to pull one towards Harry even faster. He watched, transfixed, as it slowly tugged the corpse all the way to Harry's feet. It reached up towards Harry. He stared down as the mottled black hair fell away from its face. For the first time, he noticed the brown eyes staring up at him, pleading.

"Alice?" Harry, stunned at his own realization, reached out in response. It was too late. Everything faded, for the last time.

Harry woke up with Sirius and several mediwitches hovering over him. "Harry! You're awake! Oh thank Merlin!" Harry bolted upright. He was in an entirely different part of St. Mungo's.

"Where's Neville?"

"Whoa, calm down! You just collapsed, and none of the healers here have a clue what happened. You need to rest." Sirius tried to push Harry back down onto the bed.

"I do. And I need to see Neville and Alice. I need to figure this out."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Yeah, I know I said I would add as few "extra powers" as I could in this series... this is one of them. It's more of an "explanation" instead of a new power, IMO. A little extra detail that will help reconcile a few plotholes, namely how the "love protection" still allowed Voldemort's soul to latch on to Harry, how Harry is still a "horcrux" after being stabbed with a basilisk fang back in Chamber of Secrets, and why there aren't dozens of kids walking around with magical "love protection," especially right after a war.

- Seriously, the whole "extra lessons" Dumbledore gave Harry in Half-Blood Prince was just BS. Everything Dumbledore wanted to say to Harry, he could have done it in one afternoon, instead of wasting time all year. Proof? I understood everything that Harry understood... by_ reading a book_. And it took me an afternoon.

- Why waste Harry's time? Keep in mind that, during HBP, Dumbledore has_ already decided_ that Harry needs to die (and confessed it to Snape). I guess teaching him actual skills wasn't necessary at all. In fact, making him stronger might have made him more confident... given him the idea that he could actually _defeat_ Voldemort, instead of just letting himself _be defeated_ by him.


	60. Watched

**Author's Notes: **JKR can write fanfiction of my story if she wants. I hope she doesn't mind me writing fanfiction of hers.

- Happy Canada Day and Independence Day!

- It turns out my summers are even busier than my school year. Trying to enjoy the summer sun with two jobs has left me very little time and energy for writing.

- I also just finished Mass Effect 3, and was blown away by how badly written the ending was. And then I heard about the "original" intended ending. Which has inspired me to start writing a Mass Effect fanfic. Yeesh...

* * *

**Chapter 60: Watched**

The choice between Dumbledore and the Unspeakables was actually easier than it seemed. Dumbledore was a known quantity. Harry had seen him act last time around. The Unspeakables… well, people spoke a lot about them without telling very much. So when St. Mungo's suddenly flooded with masked Ministry men, Sirius helped Harry duck into the nearest fireplace, flooing straight to Gryffindor tower.

Neville and Hermione were waiting for him. Harry tumbled into the couch in front of the fireplace, where the two of them were having a frustrating discussion. Both of them had been trying to figure out what Harry had done. Hermione wanted details that Neville couldn't provide, and Neville was wracking his brain, trying recall details he might have missed. When Harry appeared at their feet, it was like a golden four-leaf clover just sprouted out of the carpet. Harry was plucked from the ground before he even had the chance to dust himself off.

"Harry! You're alright!" Hermione dragged him into her clutches like a lioness with her cubs.

"I… I don't mean to be rude, but did you have anything to do with my mum?" Neville asked desperately.

"I'm pretty sure I did… but I'm also sure it was you," Harry said. "I don't suppose anyone else has tried casting a patronus at your mother, have they?"

"Ten times, give or take," Neville answered. "First, they got me to do it, but I was exhausted after two more and the rest weren't corporeal. Then a few of the mediwitches tried, one of the healers, and when the Unspeakables arrived, each one of them gave it a shot. No reaction from my mother again. I'm sure it was something you did!"

"As far as I'm aware, I didn't do anything but pass out! Something happened to me, but I don't think I did anything," Harry answered. "It seemed like I was inside of her mind or something. Not much of it made sense, but I'm sure I was seeing… or experiencing… your mother." An awkward silence passed before Harry added, "She hasn't been able to say it… but you've been on her mind a lot. She loves you very much." An even more awkward silence passed.

Hermione managed to remain completely academic and asked, "Wait. Are you telling me you _read her mind_? And you weren't even looking into her eyes?"

"She's been seen by the best mind-healers for years already," Neville pointed out glumly. "If it were as simple as that, she would have been cured ages ago."

"I really don't know. It didn't feel like legilimency, if that's what you're asking," Harry answered. "It was something different… I know I've felt something similar before." One particular memory had stuck with him- the pain, along with the protection, was something he'd dreamed about often. Desperation, yet determination. Fortitude in the face of fear. Helplessness and selflessness.

"_Not Harry, please! Kill me instead!" A flash of green. A woman's scream._

"_Not Neville! You can hurt me all you want, but not my son!" A wave of maddening pain. A wave of mad laughter._

Hermione was shaking Harry's shoulders when he realized he was still sitting on the couch. He slowly turned to Neville. "Nev? Do you remember the attack on your parents? You know, the one that put them in St. Mungo's?"

"No, how could I? I was just over a year old at the time."

"I remember when my parents died. But there's a funny thing about that, which I never noticed until now… I remember it mostly from my mother's perspective. The same way I saw _your_ mother's memory," Harry explained.

"I… I'm not sure if I'm ready to hear about it." Neville mumbled out, eyes fixed on his shaking hands. He got up and made his way up the spiral staircase. "Can you tell me about it tomorrow?"

"Sure. Not a problem."

Harry found himself pulled back into Hermione's arms. "Are you sure _you're_ ready to talk about all that with him?" she asked. "I can tell how much that memory of yours hurts you. And if what happened to Neville's is anything like it…" Harry didn't say a word in response, but gripped Hermione's hands tight. He didn't want to experience those memories again. And he certainly didn't want them to come to pass again, for anyone else.

* * *

A bleary, red-eyed Neville was the first one at the Great Hall for breakfast. It was clear he didn't get much sleep the night before. When the rest of the Gryffindors got down there, his face was nearly mixing in with his eggs.

"I guess you had a lot to think about last night, didn't you?" Harry said, poking the boy's shoulder.

"Ugh. You mind telling me about it in more detail? I _really_ don't feel like double potions this morning."

"I agree," Hermione said. "We should find someplace quiet- like the Historical Agriculture section of the library and talk about this some more."

"Hermione! Are you actually suggesting that I skive off class for today?" Neville gawked.

"Oh, come on. Everyone knows that I know that Professor Snape's class is hogwash! _I_ could teach better than him."

Apparently, she said it a little too loudly, because half the Gryffindor table stopped and nodded in agreement. Hermione blushed a bright scarlet, glancing at the staff table to make sure her voice hadn't carried that far.

No such luck.

The big black bundle of billowing robes descended down the aisle and hovered over Hermione. "So," Snape drawled. "The know-it-all fancies herself a professor, does she?" Hermione stiffened up. "Just because you managed to get the perpetual failure to boil water successfully doesn't put you on the level of a potions master. I'll have a hundred points from Gryffindor and an apology from you."

"Don't." Surprisingly, it was Neville that spoke to Hermione with a face full of determination. "Hermione and Harry taught me potions. You… you didn't. You _couldn't_. You're a piss-poor teacher, and that's a fact."

"Another hundred points from Gryffindor!" Snape seethed out slowly, as if to lengthen the punishment. "I have taught thousands of students, and you are by _far_ the worst! You have no talent whatsoever!"

"Hermione managed to teach me. That makes her a better teacher, by far," Neville responded.

"You dare speak to me in such a manner? Even if I can't get brewing through that thick skull of yours, I'll at least have to teach you some manners! Why, if _I_ had a child like you, I think I'd prefer to be locked up at St. Mungo's!" he sneered. The blatant jab took Neville by surprise. He'd taken personal insults from Snape for years already, but never against his parents. "If you think you can get anywere without _my_ potions instruction, you're free to leave. It won't make much of a difference for someone destined for the dregs of society."

Before Neville could form a response, a loud shout from further down the table cut in. "You mean we don't have to take your class? Thank Merlin! I'll take Granger's classes any day!"

"Yeah, does it matter who we learn from as long as we pass our OWLs?"

"Is the Beauxbatons potions professor in their carriage? Maybe we should head over there!" someone else suggested.

"I heard the Beauxbatons professor knows a hundred different beautifying potions!" one of the girls added. "Obviously that's a hundred more than Snape."

Other students joined in the uproar, causing Snape to shirk away from the student tables and look to the staff table to help. Dumbledore, unfortunately, wasn't there. The other heads of houses were deliberately ignoring the situation and continuing with their breakfast. They likely only wanted to keep the students' ire directed at one deserving professor instead of inviting it against themselves, but some students interpreted their silence as implied approval. As more and more students piled on thinly-veiled insults, others were more eager to join in, figuring that the Hogwarts dungeons could only hold so many children in detention.

Nearly everyone except the Slytherins left the Great Hall early, whooping and cheering towards their newfound freedom from the dungeons. Leaving more quietly, Harry, Hermione, and Neville noticed Dumbledore coming down the stairs, talking to their potions master, Fleming.

"When there is this much laughter coming from this many children, some people call it a riot," Dumbledore mused. "Do I have any reason to be worried?"

"Err… no sir, not you, at least. You might want to talk to professor Snape, though," Neville answered, his fear of getting in trouble just slightly edging out his excitement that half the school mocked his greatest fear for him without a single _riddikulus_ cast. Harry and Hermione were too busy making questioning faces at their potions master.

"Snape? Didn't you say he was your resident potions instructor?" Fleming asked. "Do _I_ have any reason to be worried?"

"No, none at all," Dumbledore sighed. "Professor Snape is the one who has taught your apprentices for their first three years of schooling, and one of the best potions masters in the country."

"No more Snape! No more Snape!" a student cheered as he ran by. Fleming's eyes followed him until the boy disappeared around a corner. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"I think I will have to interview this man in person," Fleming said.

"He's probably still in the Great Hall," Neville jerked his thumb back towards where they'd come from helpfully.

Fleming immediately began walking in that direction, gesturing for Harry and Hermione to follow him. "I apologize for the short notice, but it appears my business opportunities in Britain have grown massively for a short period of time, and I'll be too busy to teach you personally for about a month. I wanted to make sure the potions master was competent, up to my standards to oversee your instruction while I'm gone."

Upon re-entering the Great Hall, Fleming found Snape getting into a loud disagreement with the other heads of houses. All the students were gone now, leaving only the staff table and the occasional _pop_ of a house-elf taking away the dirty dishes. "Taking some criticism is part of your job," McGonagall was saying. "As much as I try, I don't dare to think that every single student enjoyed my instruction."

"You think you've had a difficult time bonding with your students? At least you weren't _born_ with the issue," the mixed-breed Charms professor added. Instead of his usual cheery, tight-lipped smile, he was showing off the much toothier grin of his goblin heritage.

"I believe everyone could use a healthy dose of humility," Dumbledore boomed from the doorway, causing everyone to pause. "After all, if you're too busy looking down on everyone, you'll never see who's ahead."

"The students especially. Headmaster, it is time for you to expel these troublemakers," Snape dismissively swung his arm towards the three Gryffindors.

"_Everybody_," Fleming reiterated for Dumbledore. "I have to say you haven't made the best of first impressions. Although the headmaster has put in a good word for you, I'd like to see how you do yourself. If you're as good as he says you are, I'm sure you'll pass my test easily. You can save your argument for later." Snape looked disbelievingly at the greying old man, who bore a vague resemblance to Moody- perhaps with shorter hair and more limbs, but all of the presence of a man who was the master of his craft. Dumbledore's silent nod told all four heads of houses that their argument was forcibly being put on hold.

* * *

A strand of Snape's long hair swung down in front of his face. His frustration from a mere half-hour ago was still simmering inside him, distracting him from the boiling potion below. A bursting bubble splashed a drop of the unfinished potion onto the dark lock of hair. The resulting green flare could have been caused by the potion alone, or the mixing of whatever oils and powders had seeped into his hair. Nobody wanted to reproduce those results to find out.

"I was wondering how long it would take for that to happen," Fleming laughed. "Now keep going."

"I was distracted," Snape snapped out, stirring even more carefully. "If these… _children_ hadn't been so infuriating this morning…"

"Children being children. You can't brew potions when they're around? So what you're telling me is that you're only capable of brewing potions two months out of twelve? Stop giving me excuses. And hurry up." Snape continued brewing, working at a furious pace, eager to get over the humiliating exercise as quickly as possible.

A quick ten minutes later and the potion was finished- the Inner Inflaming potion. "Are you confident enough in your work? Drink it."

Snape boldly scooped up a thimbleful of the potion and took a sip. His skin reddened slightly, and then returned to normal. Fleming pointed at the flame underneath the cauldron, wordlessly telling Snape to demonstrate the efficacy of his results. Snape rolled up a sleeve and placed his hand in the fire, holding it there for several seconds. After pulling it out, Fleming conjured a block of ice and lobbed it easily at Snape. It melted almost instantly on contact with Snape's hands.

"Well, at least I can't deny your results. The touch of evermoss to correct for your extra stir was exactly the right amount. The headmaster told me you could always brew a potion well, now I believe him."

Snape stood silent, neither pleased nor ungrateful of Fleming's assessment. Anything easier than this level of potion would have been a patronizing request for him to brew. He expected nothing less of himself. However, he knew there was some more criticism on the way.

"But I can't let you teach my students. In fact, I wouldn't let you teach any students at all. Your methods are haphazard. You know of a dozen ways to correct for any mistake, but you can't see the dozen ways to prevent the mistake in the first place. You may be able to brew a potion in your own personal space, but I would recommend brushing up on the basics of cauldron safety if you ever choose to work for an apothecary. Nobody would hire such a reckless brewer. You're an accident waiting to happen."

"He has my utmost confidence," Dumbledore defended his staffing choices. "To date, he has never failed to brew an effective potion, including the Wolfsbane potion."

"_Waiting to happen_," Fleming repeated. "He's still green. Get a few more years under your belt and something harder than school potions, and it'll happen. I guarantee it. The way you teach, I wouldn't expect anyone to be safe brewing more than household potions. From what I've heard, his lack of safety has managed to send first-years to the infirmary."

"He was incompetent," Snape spat bitterly. "No talent for potions at all."

"OF COURSE HE WAS INCOMPETENT!" Fleming roared. "A first year student! I expect them to know _nothing at all!_ If everyone was born a competent brewer, you wouldn't have a job, would you?" Fleming strode around the room, walking behind Snape and inspecting the knives, mallets, bowls, and other tools. "I can see you fancy yourself a master because you 'invented' many of your own techniques. What you don't seem to know is that others have already made these discoveries long before you. You used a blend of the Rosenkov and Mallière extraction techniques on the bulbs. A modified three-point cut instead of an outright five-point. Your technique is full of compromises when one or the other would be better, depending on the potion. You must have learned as much on your own through trial and error as you did through textbooks and instruction." Snape's glare told Fleming he was disturbingly accurate with his analysis. "And yet, somehow, you expect first-year students to simply _learn_ what is not in the textbooks, through trial and error, without the error. And you blame them, when your own instruction fails."

"Hermione. Brew a solution of Four Sleepless Fortnights. All the ingredients should be there." Hermione started to collect the ingredients immediately. Her methodical technique was slower, but undoubtedly safer.

"That's a NEWT-level potion. Do you seriously expect…" Snape began deriding Hermione's attempt before she even began. Fleming cut him short.

"If you would like to learn how to brew at a NEWT level, Mr. Snape, I suggest you take notes. I run six shops in three different countries, and I'm planning to expand both. Over the course of thirty years, I have had zero deaths, and only a few minor accidents among my employees." Turning to Dumbledore, he asked, "Headmaster, how long has this man been teaching at Hogwarts?"

"Nearly thirteen years," he answered. "About two years after his graduation from Hogwarts."

Fleming massaged his one eyebrow in frustration. "Well, this certainly threw a pickle in my potion," he muttered. "Barely finished as a student and was expected to _teach_ students immediately afterwards. No wonder he doesn't have any higher potions certifications."

_**Better Business, or International Intrusion?**_

_By R. Kingston_

_The entrance of the internationally acclaimed brewer Floyd Fleming, of Fleming Apothecary and Potions, onto the British Isles was lauded by some and feared by others. The use of potions is not widely recognized outside the realm of healers, but a business where anyone can request nearly any potion to be made for them has successfully been introduced in Germany, France, and Austria. Many are excited about the convenience it provides, but those looking for employment may have to keep searching elsewhere._

_F.A.P. appears to be searching for brewers with at least ten years' experience, and their Potions NEWT, naturally. When asked why such difficult criteria were required for each applicant, Mr. Fleming replied, "We simply want the best." Understandable, but it appears that nearly all brewers with ten years' experience are already successfully employed, and fresh Hogwarts graduates are out of luck. To fill in the possible gaps in employment, Mr. Fleming has stated that he intends to bring in foreign help._

_There is, however, a way out for young brewers. For the price of sixty galleons, F.A.P. is also offering a course for those who carry a potions NEWT to fast-track them towards employment, which also gives them international recognition as licensed brewers. This seems like a pricey investment, and some have even considered it a sham…_

* * *

Standing once again in front of a crowd of thousands, Harry realized he was being watched. Well, he always knew he was being watched, but this time, there were people in masks, and he was in their territory. The Trial of Earth was in the same place as last time- some island controlled by the Ministry's Unspeakables for use as environmental training grounds. There were deserts, forests, fields, and mountains all within spitting distance of each other. This time, they had placed the stadium closer to the desert region. And around the stadium were the Unspeakables.

They were all watching him, Harry knew it. He didn't know what they wanted from him- he _hoped_ it was to investigate what happened at St. Mungo's. He didn't expect to replicate that feat in front of a sandworm. Or had they been investigating his rather unusual rise in talent? If they delved more deeply, the secret inside the Chamber of Secrets would be unearthed. Or maybe they were just looking for a prospective recruit… hah. While Bagman was doing his usual speeches, Harry played a little game of "spot-the-Unspeakables." Most of them were placed evenly at the top row of the stadium. A few were moving around with the security teams. A few at the front row with a clear view of the staging area. And only a few among the crowds- but given they were Unspeakables, there was a good chance there were also a few in civilian clothing.

He knew he'd been a little reckless this time around, but he _really_ wanted Voldemort dead and was trying to figure out the best way to do it. He was tempted to see how much he could stir the waters today before something came up to bite him- but he'd need to get Hermione to agree to that. He definitely wasn't leaving Bill dead, in any case. For now, he'd have to wander around the island as if he never knew the layout, even though he already knew exactly where he needed to go to fetch the ingredients.

At least he had a good excuse for having such a well-formulated plan: in lieu of training with Snape of the past month, Fleming had decided to leave Harry a list of potions to practice, and they all seemed to have _very_ specific uses. Arakkadian sandworm mating scent, elephant mole scent (the sandworms' favourite food, as Hermione explained), animal frenzy potion, and Soiled Soil (good for repelling earthworms, questionable for sandworms). With all those potions on hand, he decided to go with only one of them in order to save time.

The sparks flew from Bagman's wand, and Harry dashed ahead of the other two, out of the open-ended stadium as fast as possible. He quickly noticed that Ivan wasn't leaving with them, staying in the giant sand pit where the golden eggs were buried deep underground. _Is he seriously thinking of trying to fight those sandworms with wandwork alone?_ Harry wondered. He'd find out when he got back. Ivan's loud, vigorous spellcasting would keep the crowds entertained, at least.

He wished that they could have just made a mad dash for an apothecary instead of running around an artificial island for ingredients. He only intended to make two potions, but the number of ingredients required led him to every landscape. He spent half an hour of marching through fake desert, then another half-hour of fake grasslands, then a whole hour by an artificial river to get frog eggs and a drink of water. Everywhere he went, though, Fleur seemed to appear within a few minutes. After nearly two hours of trekking and ingredient-gathering, he couldn't ignore his "travelling companion" any longer. "Fleur, are you following me?" he asked, breaking the long silence between the two competitors.

"Non! We just 'appen to share similar strategies!" she replied with a slight blush, either from anger or embarrassment, or both.

"So you decided on the essence of elephant mole yourself?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"It is a rare, but useful spice for some traditional dishes," Fleur answered. Harry didn't know if she meant traditional French, or traditional Veela. Perhaps he could do well to sample some more foreign cuisine.

They returned to quietly picking flowers and extracting pollen, until Fleur broke the silence once more. "Do you know much about me, Harry?"

"What?" Harry was taken aback by Fleur's rather forward question.

"During ze last duel. You mentioned 'ow I disliked my… avian side. I do not recall telling you this," she said. "I only noticed zis… discrepancy… long after ze fight was over. Tell me, how much else do you know about me?" She sidled up to him in a meek, demure manner that was completely unlike the supermodel-like persona she was in public. He could feel his heart beat faster, his palms getting sweatier, and his breathing getting shallow. "You treat me so… differently from all ze other boys, Harry. Tell me how you want me to treat _you_." Fleur stretched out the last word while softly placing a finger on her bottom lip, as if she were about to lick it. Her breath reached Harry's nose and it was, unsurprisingly, fragrant and fresh.

Harry clammed up, not knowing how to react, and probably too nervous even if he did. Violence and death threats he'd handled well before attending Hogwarts. Magical seductresses, not so much. Then the allure hit him- or, at least, it hit the barriers in his mind, alerting him to the assault and forcing him to focus once again. _Damn_, he thought. _She managed to do all that to me __**before**__ letting that aura of hers go to work._ Much to Fleur's surprise, the allure created the exact opposite effect that she intended. Harry jumped straight into combat mode, knowing he was under assault.

His wand shot into his left hand as he backed up. He sized up Fleur- she was definitely in a compromised position, taken aback by Harry's sudden action, and still sitting on the grass. Her hands weren't anywhere near her wand- in fact, her right hand was on his pouch. The one containing all the pollen, the most painstakingly slow ingredient to gather, which he'd been working on for the last half-hour. "Hands off," Harry warned, pointing his wand at Fleur.

"Oh, but you cannot raise your wand at your competition, except in ze Trials of Champions, Harry!" Fleur reminded him. "Won't you just let me 'ave zis?"

"No," Harry replied flatly. "But you're using your allure against me. Isn't that against the rules, too? And so is stealing."

"I am not doing zis with a wand," she answered plainly. "And it is not stealing if you give it to me. So won't you let me have it? I will be _so very thankful_." Batting her eyelashes, biting her bottom lip, and twirling her long, silvery hair with her free hand, all while increasing her aura's intensity. She even puffed out her chest and plumped up her breasts with her other arm, not that she needed it. She was pulling out all the stops.

Harry resisted. "No," he repeated. "Give it up, Fleur. It's not going to work on me, so put that pouch back."

Fleur continued to hold that pose for a minute, but when it was clear that she couldn't break Harry, she scowled and tossed the pouch back to the ground. "You really _are_ unlike ze other boys," she growled. Since both of them still had at least another fifteen minutes worth of pollen-gathering to do, they both got back to work quickly.

* * *

It was a mess when they returned. Ivan had pretty good endurance, but for the most part had spent his time blasting away at sand. The sandworms had a good habit of burrowing underground very quickly when they were under attack, and their natural heat resistance and thick hides made them pretty tough to deal with. It seemed absolutely ridiculous to take them on directly, but both Harry and Fleur saw why, soon enough.

Ivan's leg had been injured slightly, which was surprising. A sandworm's teeth could grind through rocks on a regular basis, a human leg would have been wouldn't even require chewing. Whether it was luck or skill that he got away with such a minor injury, he still needed to brew himself a healing salve and get some rest. The brewing was going horribly, which took away from his ability to rest. Harry had to chuckle as Ivan struggled to cobble together a basic fourth-year potion. His frustration wasn't helping, and he was probably sweating as much as the cauldron was steaming.

Harry had wondered why Krum was generally picked over Ivan, despite Ivan being massively more powerful in the duels. He watched as the tall boy took a sip of his off-colour product, then immediately double over with stomach cramps.

Harry, on the other hand, was doing quite well with his potion, as was Fleur. He decided to test some of it out. He animated some of the sand into a vague four-legged animal without bothering to completely transfigure it, and dripped a few drops of his potion onto it. When the potion soaked through the grains of sand, he sent the little creature running back into the sand pits.

It didn't make it very far. Ten steps in, and a five-foot-wide circle of teeth burst from the sand and engulfed the entire thing in one bite. Just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared underground again. No wonder Ivan had trouble with these things. Since he knew the lure worked, Harry got to work quickly on the good, old, dependable explosive potion. Fleur was working on a slightly different second potion, after confirming her own luring potion worked just as well.

Ivan had managed to work through his cramps, making a second attempt at a basic pepper-up potion.

The next animated pile of sand was made more carefully- that is, he made them shaped like an actual animal, with a hollow center. Inside, it carried a large vial of explosive potion. He hadn't been informed exactly how many sandworms were under there, but he assumed there were more than three, and hopefully less than ten. He had to ration the explosives before he could make a dig for the nest. He could also hope that Fleur's strategy could help him take out a few more, but competitors weren't the best people to depend on. Another drop of the elephant mole scent, and away it went.

Again, the worms appeared to be ravenous. The first worm got to the explosive sand-ferret in less than ten seconds. Nobody could hear the explosion, but they could see the sand shake slightly when it went off. _Excellent,_ Harry thought. He continued to transfigure explosive ferrets- he had enough for five more potions, and hoped that would be enough.

Explosion after explosion rocked the subterranean den beneath the arena. If the worms were known for anything, it wasn't for their brains. They answered to every beck and call, and each time one would be blown up, and the sand would get tinted slightly redder. Until Harry ran out of explosive potions, and there were at least three more worms fighting for the last sand-ferret.

The very last one exploded before it burrowed, splattering the entire arena with worm guts. If that didn't get the audience's stomachs heaving, the fact that most of the bits were still squirming did. They weren't squirming for long, because apparently sandworms had no qualms with cannibalism. While the crowd was relieved to see the gory bits and pieces disappear, Harry wasn't. He counted three more worms to take care of, and he'd run out of potions to work with.

He turned to Fleur, who had been sitting back and letting Harry do all the work so far. "Well?" he urged his competitor to make a go at it. Fleur did something similar to Harry, dabbing some of the lure onto a transfigured animal and filling it with another potion. She, however, chose to make three of them at once.

Three fat chickens ran off into the middle of the sand, and predictably, three worms came up to swallow them all. What followed wasn't the usual boom that the crowd had gotten used to, but the sand was definitely moving. Churning. Writhing. Occasionally an entangled mass of worm bodies would appear on the surface.

"What you are witnessing here, folks, is the beauty of nature at work," Harry heard Bagman announce. "The rarely observed mating dance of the Arrakadian sandworms, normally only occurring under the cover of night…" Bagman paused as he leaned over and listened to one of the beastmasters. "What's that? Really? Oh… _Really?_ Uh, folks, you might want to shield your eyes for the next part if you're squeamish…"

Like a few creatures in the animal kingdom, the mating dance ended with the males feeding the female. And sandworms were messy eaters. The instant the three broke apart, the gigantic female turned around and chewed through the midsection of the smaller sandworm, once again leaving bits and pieces of squirming sandworm in the arena. The audience was squirming in a very similar fashion. The other sandworm suffered a similar fate.

One sandworm remaining on the field was much better than three, but there was still the issue of one sandworm with an endless appetite and the ability to move very quickly underground, exactly where they needed to go to retrieve their golden eggs.

Harry still had some leftovers of his luring potion, so he decided to make several more ferrets out of the sand, douse them in the remainder of the potion, and sent them running around the edge of the arena. He immediately began to cast as many shovelling spells as he could muster, but only managed to get shoulder deep before he heard the rumble of the sandworm return in his direction. He scrambled back to safety, while the sandworm undid all his work as it burrowed protectively above its nest.

Back on the brewing platform, Harry looked at his two rather useless competitors. Ivan was, once again, doubled over in pain from whatever he ended up brewing. Fleur, surprisingly, looked like she was similarly about to throw up as well. "Don't tell me you tried drinking his potion, too?" Harry chuckled. Fleur only glared at him. "Oh, right," he said. "You hate worms. That mating dance certainly was something else, wasn't it?" A few good laughs did well to get his spirits up, but he was no closer to getting his prize than the other two champions.

He really didn't want to go for _another_ two-hour potion-ingredient scavenger hunt, but he had nothing left. Fleur still had leftover luring potion. Ivan had… whatever concoction he ended up making. _Well, since they're not using them... can't make things worse, _Harry thought. He animated another pile of sand, loaded it up with Ivan's cauldron of bubbling goop, and showered it with Fleur's lure and sent it off. Once more, he sprinted towards the varied landscapes to gather what he needed for another exploding potion.

That is, until he heard a strange rumbling behind him, along with some violent thrashing. The audience, although safe behind their barriers, were screaming. Harry turned around to see the last worm vomiting up its earlier meals, launching projectiles of half-digested worm organs at the horrified onlookers. And then it did it again. And again. It was almost like an endless fountain- and at some point, it must have been hurling its own guts instead of the guts' contents. At this point, Harry tried to see how Ivan was doing- that boy must have had an iron stomach to be able to handle his own potion better than this worm could.

When everything had finally settled down, Harry approached the worm. Fleur had managed to climb down from the platform as well, keeping her wand trained on the body and her other hand over her mouth and nose.

"You… you reckon it's dead?" Harry asked cautiously, with his own wand pointing at the unmoving worm.

"I do not know. Why don't you poke it wiz your wand while I retrieve the egg?" Fleur answered.

"Oh, ha ha." Harry sent a spearpoint hex towards the worm, which bore a hole through its hide. With no response from the worm, he decided it was safe to start digging. Working together with nothing left to stop them, it took them twenty minutes to dig and levitate twenty feet worth of dirt to reach the nest. Harry pulled out two of the golden eggs, leaving the third down at the bottom. "Let's call this one a tie," he said, tossing one egg to Fleur.

"How gracious of you," Fleur curtsied with her one free hand.

* * *

The awards turned out quite well for Harry and Fleur, although Harry took top honours for destroying the greatest number of the sandworms. As it turned out, Ivan _had_ managed to kill one worm before Harry and Fleur returned, but its body was devoured almost immediately. Karkaroff was arguing with the judges that the very last worm could be attributed partially to Ivan's potion, but since he was still too sick to even stand on the podium, the judges dismissed the idea.

With the points awarded and the crowd dispersing, Harry felt an incredible thirst. He jogged back into the champions' tent for some extra refreshments before looking for Hermione and the others. On his third cup of pumpkin juice, he felt the tent shake a little.

When he peeked outside, the stadium was gone, and the ground beneath the tent was moving. Or, more accurately, it was being rearranged. Further out, he could see all the other odd landscapes moving as well, with the forests breaking off from the plains, and the desert now rearranged to be right beside the river. He noticed there had been plenty of unused landscapes in "storage", such as a waterfall, a patch of jungle, and tundra. He was stuck on a single, lone "tile" of desert sand, separated from all the rest. While it had always been obvious that the Trial of Earth had been held on an artificial island, the scale of the place and the fact that it could be easily remodelled amazed Harry. He hoped he wasn't accidentally going to be placed into storage, because he had no idea how to leave, other than by the portkey that brought him in.

Several blocks of mountainous cliffs moved in and surrounded his square, trapping him inside. _Definitely not an accident_, he told himself, bracing for a fight. Ten hooded, masked figures appeared above him at the top of a cliff. The sheer rock face began to sink down lower, bringing one of the Unspeakables to Harry's level. She stepped off, showing no signs of hostility.

"You may call me Mensa. I am the head of the researchers in the Room of Thought at the Department of Mysteries. We would like to ask you a few questions, Harry Potter."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes****:**

- On character death: I think it's a great thing, but only when done properly. Unless a character is a hardened war veteran or psychopath, deaths affect them. I don't feel that any of the characters' deaths in Harry Potter were especially meaningful. After Sirius died, Harry should have been seeking blood. He should have been determined to become stronger and better... instead, Half-Blood Prince happened. wuh?

Then Dumbledore died. Now, without a clear elderly sage to guide him, does this force Harry to be his own independent man? No... he spends the entirety of the last book trying to figure out what Dumbledore wanted from him.

Other characters, like George, Moody, etc... those are just background deaths. Nothing changes for Harry when it happens, and we barely get to see how it affects everyone else as well.

- On plot devices: The problem with introducing anything new is figuring out all its implications. JKR creates a lot of these, but doesn't realize the implications. I try to have everything set before i begin the story. For example:

Philosopher's stone? Why doesn't Flamel share, and cure death and disease for the world?

Time-turners? Why don't aurors use this? Even if they can't prevent a crime, they can at least witness it, and catch the criminals instantly. There's plenty of other uses for something as powerful as _time travelling_.

Apparition? Why didn't Sirius apparate to Godric's Hollow? Why didn't Dumbledore apparate back to the ministry, or back to Hogwarts in PS?

Legilimency/occlumency? Reading minds is an amazing power. Everyone would be learning it if it were possible. Especially thieves and shady businessmen. Lots of potential profiting from legilimency skill.


	61. Not a Day Goes By

**Author's Notes:** JKR can do what she likes with Harry Potter, and we're powerless to stop her! Except for personal entertainment purposes like fanfiction.

- Ugh. Sorry for the unannounced hiatus. Chapters will come whenever I have time, e.g. winter holidays...

- Random thought of the day: In the original series, there were _no witnesses_ to Voldemort's (first) defeat. The AK curse is known to leave no traces or markings. So when you walk into a house with two dead parents and a blown-up dark lord, how does Dumbledore manage to conclude that:

1. Harry (i.e. the sleeping baby) did it.

2. Lily invoked ancient, never-before-seen magic in a not-too-uncommon situation

3. Reflected a killing curse known for not being blocked by anything

4. the AK curse doing exactly the opposite of what it normally does.

Huh. The "senile" explanation keeps looking better and better.

* * *

**Chapter 61: Not a Day Goes By**

Harry was escorted down a dark hallway that felt almost familiar. His anxiety grew as he tried his best to remember, but all he could recall were vague feelings of desperation and loss. His thoughts turned to Sirius for some reason, but he couldn't remember why. The faceless figures in white cloaks weren't helping. Harry was constantly trying to fight the urge hex them all and hide around a corner. They led him down a labyrinthine hallway. He felt like a lab rat, or whatever the magical equivalent was, being shown the way through a maze. He knew he wouldn't remember the way out unless they showed him.

They finally reached a straight, simple hallway with doors lining each side. The Unspeakable opened one of them and gestured Harry to go inside. "These will be your quarters."

"Quarters? I only agreed to be here for a few hours, at most. Where's Alice Longbottom? Isn't that why you brought me here?" Harry asked, feeling suspicious. When they had said they'd ask a few questions, he thought there would be more talking and less walking around.

"Standard operating procedure. We don't anticipate you will experience much waiting time. We've provided you with a meal."

The moment Harry stepped inside, they slammed the door shut behind him. "Wait!" Harry called out, whirling around. He opened the door again, only to find the entire hallway completely empty. It had taken them about three minutes of continuous walking to get to where he was, but they'd disappeared from sight in less than three seconds.

He closed the door again and noticed there was a delicious steak dinner waiting for him, laid out on an expensive-looking oak dining table. His hunger suddenly caught up to him, reminding him that only an hour ago he was fighting off giant worms in a fake desert. He sat down, noticing the real silverware they had provided. It was nicer than any the Dursleys owned, which Harry had cleaned and polished but never used. Harry cast every potion- and poison-detecting spell he knew, and came up with nothing. Hopefully that meant the Department of Mysteries _was_ treating him as a guest.

He was only halfway through when the door opened again. "We're ready."

* * *

Harry didn't get to see Alice Longbottom, but she must have been nearby. He didn't see Neville either, but he must have been there too. His friend's echidna patronus was sniffing around at his feet as he stood in a featureless, white realm. "Hello there. Where are we going today?"

A few steps forward was all it took to bring him back to a familiar location- a room full of desks. The echidna sniffed around, ducking behind one of the desks before leading a mummy-like figure out from behind it. Harry did his best to keep a stiff upper lip as he walked towards it. He recognized Alice, or at least a part of her. He had no idea what he could do to help, but he was determined to try _something_.

The moment he grasped Alice's hand, he was flooded with emotions of every sort. The comfort of being held while sitting in front of a fireplace, the uneasiness of introducing yourself to someone you've seen for six years but never talked to, the annoyance at the inconveniences of pregnancy, the joy of finishing NEWTs. Much like the figure that he was grasping, each feeling was in dire need of repair.

That patronus was tugging at another figure. Another Alice, nearby. This one looked more like an infant… barely. Harry reached out for it with his other hand.

"_We need to sedate her!"_ His eyes were closed. Who said that?

"_No! Keep monitoring her! And we need more readings on Potter!"_

"_The Longbottom boy! There's something going on with him, too!"_ The voices were fading again…

Harry looked down at his hands. He was back in the white room, with the patronus sitting in front of him. Echidnas couldn't smile, but he was certain this one was particularly happy. He was holding Alice… one of her. It still looked like a mummy, or a severely malnourished woman, but it was _better_ than what he'd started with. He still had no idea what he did or how he did it, but he was sure this was progress.

Neville's patronus was tugging on yet another "Alice" already. Harry placed a hand on it. Again, he experienced a rush of sensations. This one seemed to be centered on touch- extremely mundane, but familiar ones. The bedsheets of the Longbottom home. The leftmost cushion of the sofa in the living room. The wand in her hand as she performed the flick for _Accio_. Her husband's stubble at 8 p.m.

"_-can't keep going like this."_

"_Did he just try to summon my robes?"_

"_-tried waking him up?"_ Again, the voices disappeared.

* * *

"That's all we need for the moment, Mr. Potter. How do you feel?"

"Fine," Harry replied. "I kept drifting in and out. Is Neville here? I want to talk to him."

"After the sessions are done. You may have a snack and prepare for the next session. It will begin shortly." The Unspeakable escorted Harry back to his room, where the dinner had been replaced with treacle tart. Someone had done their research.

Feeling a little bored, Harry ate quickly and stepped out into the hallway. It was silent- so quiet that it made Harry acutely aware of his own breathing and heartbeat. He started walking just for the sake of making some noise. He looked over at the other doors, each of which had roman numerals and a piece of parchment. His door was MCDXXXII, and the parchment read, "Cruciatus treatment research." Sounded simple enough. He decided to do a little wandering to see what the other doors held behind them.

MCDXXXIII, potential floramagus. Whatever that was. MCDXXXIV, ghost and poltergeist borderline subject. The description made Harry think of Myrtle. MCDXXXV, twin bonding research, subject A. He found himself thinking of the twins, and what they'd do if they were separated. As far as Harry could recall, he'd never seen them apart unless it was for pranking purposes. MCDXXXVI, twin bonding research, subject B. MCDXXXVII, natural legilimens. Could Luna fit into that category? Harry was never sure of _what _that girl actually knew. MCDXXXVIII, House Elf Aggression Project, subject C. Harry's eyes bulged. He probably didn't want to know the extent of the kinds of research that happened here. He quickly walked back to his room and closed the door.

About two seconds later, just as he was about to take another bite of treacle tart, the door swung open. "Time for your next session, Mr. Potter." _How do they keep doing that?_ he wondered. _That hall was empty for sure when I came back in_. Harry figured it was a very selective application of anti-apparition wards. And that they could apparate silently somehow. They _were_ Unspeakables, after all.

* * *

"Hullo again, Neville," Harry greeted the patronus. It looked at Harry, but naturally didn't respond. Instead, it kept leading Harry to the same place, "sniffing" out little bits of Alice Longbottom.

Harry still had no idea what he was doing when he took its hand. This one seemed to be a collection of fears- Spiders, a feeling of vertigo, a cackling of laughter that must have been Bellatrix Lestrange, among others. He experimentally held out his left hand to another part of Alice, which Neville's patronus was nudging towards him.

This one gave him an adrenaline rush. Apparently Alice Longbottom's first time on a broom was more like Harry's than Neville's. There was at least one time that she snuck out of Gryffindor tower to play a prank at night. And, unsurprisingly, a duel against Voldemort with her husband at her side.

Holding both of them with his hands gave Harry a headache intense enough to make him wake up. He got up from the bed, noticing that the Unspeakable was scribbling notes down with a _pencil_, of all things. "That was a rather short session, Mr. Potter. Do you feel you could keep going a few more times today?"

"Uh… yeah, I just need something to stop this migraine…"

"A potion will be ready for you in your room."

* * *

The third and fourth sessions were much like the second. He would try to take hold of two parts of Alice's soul, give himself a splitting headache, and wake up. One potion and a fifteen minute break in between each. Neville seemed to be holding out surprisingly well- at the SNAPE meeting last week, Neville was only making one corporeal patronus before tiring out. Maybe the thought of his mother getting better was inspiring him.

Harry wondered if he was doing it correctly, or if there was even such a thing as a "correct" method at all. As far as he could tell, he was putting things back together randomly. _The foot bone's connected to the… leg bone. The leg bone's connected to the… neck bone_, he sang inside his head. _Seriously, I hope I'm doing more good than harm with all this._

The fifth session, however, began a little differently. "Do you think we're making any kind of progress, Neville?" Harry chuckled as he saw the patronus once more.

To his surprise, it replied. "Harry! If you can hear me, we're getting you out soon!" in Neville's voice.

"What was that? Neville? Get me out of here?"

Unfortunately, the patronus didn't speak again, having relayed its message. Even more strangely, it didn't help Harry seek out more of Alice. Instead, it kept prodding him instead.

"Well, if I don't have anything else to do, I might as well try this myself," Harry shrugged. He didn't know exactly how to wake himself up from this, but he figured he might as well make the best use of his time. The echidna followed instead of leading. It took Harry a good half-hour to find the fragment of Alice he'd been working with. She looked… almost human now. Disfigured, malnourished, _incomplete_, but certainly better. He was hoping to actually restore her completely if things went well.

Unfortunately, he couldn't find any other fragments this time. Being unproductive felt irritating. He felt himself being forced to wake up, and was once again lying down in the Department of Mysteries with an Unspeakable hovering over him.

"We didn't record nearly as much activity as the last several sessions, Mr. Potter. Have you reached your limit?"

"I don't think so. I think this time was just a little less… productive," Harry thought. He wondered about Neville's message. They were going to "get him out?" Did they have to? Could he really leave if he wanted to? "Excuse me, Mr… "

"Animus."

"Right, Mr. Animus. Could I go back to Hogwarts now? I'm all knackered. Maybe another day?"

"Your progress has been excellent so far, Mr. Potter. We've managed to learn a lot from the short time you've been here. Would you be willing to stay overnight and begin another session as soon as possible? Your work here is absolutely critical to our research."

"I don't know, my friends would…"

"We will send a note to Hogwarts to inform all pertinent parties." Clearly he wasn't going to let Harry go without a fight.

"Alright," Harry relented. Maybe he really would have to depend on Neville to get him out of here. He might as well do the best he could for Alice in the meantime.

* * *

The next session was just as odd. Neville's patronus appeared to him, and this time it said, "Hermione's got a plan. Next week. We're breaking you out." So, apparently patronuses could be used as messengers. He wondered how Neville knew he was getting the messages, or if he was just guessing. Still, next _week_? That was a bit of an overreaction since he'd only been there overnight…

Again, he wandered the blank and formless area until he found Alice again. Holding her hand, he could tell she had a much wider range of emotions running through her. She could even move a little bit, so Harry kept holding her hand as they walked, searching for more parts Alice.

They found another one which looked like a baby with a microscopic body and giant eyes, ears, and thumbs. Holding its hand, Harry found out it made up Alice's present sensory perception. They didn't merge, though, and Harry wasn't getting the headache he was normally getting. Why wasn't it working? He tried concentrating on the emotions going through Alice.

Through her ears, he heard some people talk.

"_Artifact F ready. Contact in 3… 2… 1…"_

The white landscape darkened to grey. He whirled around to notice a black spot in the distance, with a dark grey mist pouring in, reaching forward like tentacles. Neville's patronus was standing in front of it defensively. The tendrils were inching their way towards him. Harry didn't know what to do, or where to go. He tried telling himself to wake up- but this wasn't a dream; or at least, not a normal one. He picked up the slightly-improved Alice and moved her away. He took up position beside the echidna. Nothing else he could do other than face this black mist just like Neville's patronus is doing.

The mist wrapped around his fingers. And Harry knew he was experiencing something very familiar.

* * *

He couldn't control his body any more, or his field of view. He was stuck to perceiving through another's eyes. It was certainly a much more hospitable setting than either the Department of Mysteries or Alice's mental realm. A fireplace cackled, bringing a soothing background noise and a comfortably warm glow to the room. Everything in sight looked to be ancient, yet well-cared for. There was a portrait at least four hundred years old, going by the fashion sense of the subject. Odd that it wasn't moving- this couldn't be a muggle home. An equally old clock told Harry it was six- in the morning or evening, he couldn't tell. He found himself sitting in a plush chair, with a matching sofa to his left. A cup of tea, still steaming, was at his right.

It would have been entirely inviting if it weren't for the dead body.

"About time," Harry heard the voice come out of his own mouth. He knew it wasn't his. And he knew exactly what was happening.

Tom Riddle got up from the chair and walked around. There was Hufflepuff's cup, at the center of a ritual circle. Harry couldn't remember all the details, but he didn't need to- it was the same one he witnessed at Riddle Manor. A few incomprehensible words and some wandwork later, Harry felt like his body was being torn apart. It was as if someone had decided to pinch off a little piece of each organ in his body. Everything was wrong, everything ached, and every part of him felt _incomplete_- but he could feel Tom Riddle's glee.

"Hm. This was a little more difficult than the last one," the teenager said to himself. Harry understood the thoughts going through Tom's head. This was his third horcrux, and he was breaking apart the stable formation of three pieces of souls to make four. Harry suddenly realized why he couldn't get the new piece of Alice's soul to merge- she was sitting at a magically stable number.

Tom Riddle, on the other hand, wasn't finished. "As for you, my little alibi…" He raised his wand at the frozen house-elf that Harry didn't even realise was there. "_Obliviate_."

* * *

""Artifact F. It's Hufflepuff's cup, isn't it? You've been keeping it around?" Harry shot the accusation at Animus.

"So you experienced it, then? Good, good. I'll have to make a note of that. It has proven useful for study. Such artifacts are rare to come by, and we're not wasting the opportunity." Animus scribbled on his parchment without making eye contact.

"And what in the name of Merlin's wrinkly ass made you think of giving one of Voldemort's horcruxes to Alice Longbottom?"

"Two fields of research naturally intersect here."

Harry gaped. Having a staring contest with a mask wasn't going to get him any clarifications. "I'm not doing this again until that horcrux is gone, you hear?"

"Your next session will not involve Artifact F." It was given that Harry would agree to another session, whether he liked it or not. Remembering Neville's message, he decided to go with it. He returned to his room, with another snack- butterbeer and pumpkin pasties waiting for him.

* * *

One bottle later and Harry was brought back into the same old chamber. Once again, as he fell to unconsciousness, he met with Neville's patronus. "I hope you get this Harry. Here we go!" it said.

The dream ended abruptly. Harry awoke to sounds of shouting through the nearest wall. _Neville probably needs some help_, he thought. Animus appeared to be distracted, so Harry used the opportunity to stun him. Wands in hand, he kicked open the door and tried opening the next one. Locked. _Alohamora_ did nothing. _Bombarda_ worked.

He ran inside to see a still-unconscious Alice strapped to a table by the wall nearest his own testing room. At the other end was Neville and one Unspeakable, both unconscious on the ground. Two other Unspeakables stood over them, one trying to revive their ally and the other turning towards the blast that Harry caused.

Harry let out a string of wildly thrown stunners, showering the area with red light. Most of them missed, but all he needed were two to hit. He ran over to Neville and revived him.

"Harry! You're alright! My mother… we have to get her out of here, too!"

"Uh, sure, Nev. Please tell me you have a plan."

"Yeah, Hermione, Luna and Mr. Black are leading the way in. Mr. Lupin and the Weasleys will be diverting the reinforcements. The plan kind of hinges on us being able to fight our way out, to meet them, though. Glad you still have your wands with you. You're going to have to do most of the fighting." Neville released all the restraints on his mother and mumbled, "_Levicorpus_." Alice began to float around waist height.

Harry was glad he was allowed to keep his basilisk cloak and wands as he used it to block a stunner while returning one of his own. As far as Harry could tell, they having it easy. They had fought mostly unprepared Unspeakables, probably researchers at most. Everyone else was making a lot more noise, so navigating was relatively easy. They headed towards the sounds of battle- at least, until he got to the maze. "Uh, Neville? Do you know the way out?"

"Yeah, I've memorized it. They brought me down here blindfolded, but the occlumency you taught me helped a lot. Hermione reviewed my memories and we managed to make a map out of it." With Neville giving directions, they continued to stun and disarm their way through. As they neared the sound of fighting, Harry heard _laughing_, of all things.

"We never got into _this_ much trouble did we, Moony? _Expulso!_ I think it's pretty safe to pass on the mantle of the Marauders, wouldn't you say? _Protego!_"

"Now's not the time, Paddy! Wait, I smell him. Harry! Stay down!"

Harry obligingly followed Remus's warning as he turned the corner, ducking low. Spells whizzed by overhead as the others appeared to have barricaded themselves behind door, reinforced with chairs and cabinets that had been transfigured into stone. All of them were ducking behind a row of desks, which had been similarly transfigured.

"This… um… doesn't seem like we're following the plan."

"Harry! You're alright!" Sirius barked out at him, pulling him in close.

"Hugs later! More reinforcements!" Hermione yelled. She blew a kiss at Harry and went back to transfiguring more furniture from the adjoining rooms.

Luna was taking all the shattered bits of stone and turning them into mice, which scurried through the cracks and did a decent job of distracting the people on the other side. Remus was concentrating on blocking spells that could hit them. Fred, George, and Ron were there as well, each one of them doing their part as the lobbed potions and banished darkness powder at the door. George was keeping his ears on one extra-long extendable ear, getting a good read on what was happening on the other side.

As well-prepared as they were, it was clear they were backed into a corner with no way out. Most of them were tiring out from trying to fix the barricade, with no strength to return fire. They had no idea how many reinforcements were though the door, and if the Aurors got involved, there would be at least another hundred trained wizards to face.

* * *

On the other side of the door, the Unspeakable code-named Jupiter was barking orders. "No blasting hexes! We've got three important specimens in there, and need I remind you that one of them happens to be a national hero? Disassemble the blockade, don't wreck it! And where's that sleeping powder?"

"Message from Scrimgeour, sir! He says if we don't stop the noise within five minutes, he's sending a team of aurors." Behind them, the lift let out a _ding_.

"They're early. Aurors are never early. They can't be that eager unless they're rookies." Jupiter growled. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was youth and idealism with a badge to back it up.

"Who are you calling a rookie?" came a gruff voice, followed by the uneven footsteps of a man with a wooden leg.

* * *

"Hey, someone big just came through. He's telling them to stop. Sounds like Dumbledore," George announced. "Wait, some other guy's telling them to continue. No, hold it. Dumbledore's pulling out the Chief Warlock card."

A few seconds later, and their transfigured barricade animated itself, walking out of the way as Dumbledore stepped into the room. The Unspeakables who were in the hallway stepped aside respectfully. Moody trailed not far behind, eliciting an equal, but entirely different, type of respect from them.

"Everybody, have a seat. I think it's about time we settled this in a more civilized manner? I must say I prefer chocolate wands over dragon heartstrings. Unless I want something especially chewy." He transfigured the desk into a large round table as floor shaped itself into seats. There were enough seats for everyone, with the rescue party on one end, and the Unspeakables at the other. Dumbledore and Moody sat between the two groups, while Alice lay on a cot behind Neville.

"Let me be the first to say that Mr. Potter was never actually being held here forcefully," Jupiter stated.

"That's a load of bollocks and you know it!" Hermione shouted uncharacteristically. Her eyes grew damp as she leaned over and hugged Harry. "Arrakadian flu? He seems remarkably healthy now, doesn't he?"

"It's bad enough you had to do this with a Hogwarts student. But since he's a Triwizard champion, you crossed into _my_ territory," Moody added. He looked over at Jupiter with only his magical eye, not bothering to face him.

"Then let's ask him, shall we?" Jupiter challenged them. "Mr. Potter, did you ever felt _imprisoned_ in the time you've spent with us?"

"Err… not particularly… but the maze would have been a bit of a challenge, wouldn't it?" Harry answered. "I don't know if I could have left if I wanted to, but I didn't see a need for it at the time…"

"Harry, are you under some kind of compulsion? What have they been feeding you?" Hermione asked.

"Err… half a steak dinner, pumpkin juice, treacle tart, a butterbeer, three head-soothing potions, and two pumpkin pasties," Harry answered. "I checked everything for poisons and potions that I knew of," he added, glancing over at Moody.

"Every day? That's not too shabby. A little heavy on dessert, though," Remus remarked.

"What? No. That's it. I've only been here a day… less than 24 hours, it seems. Oh, bugger all, I'm completely off, aren't I?" Harry looked back and forth between the shocked faces on his side of the table.

"Harry… try seven weeks." Harry cast _calentempa_ to check. A mix of jumbled numbers came up.

"Our wards here are… quite extensive," Jupiter explained.

"Everyone has their share of secrets. But hiding the passage of time from Mr. Potter rates a little more damaging than your average white lie, doesn't it, Jupiter?" Dumbledore asked. "Please, enlighten us as to why you couldn't simply ask nicely. If it were a noble an act as healing, I'm sure Mr. Potter would have volunteered his time the same way Mr. Longbottom has."

"That's classified," Jupiter stated.

"What did you do to me?" Harry angrily banged his fist on the table. "A stasis spell? Memory charms? Time travel?"

"That's classified," Jupiter stated again.

"What were you doing with him? Were you going to let him go when my mother was cured?" Neville added.

"That's…"

"Classified, we know." Sirius slammed his palms into the table. "So what _can_ you tell us?"

"I assure you that everything we do is for the benefit of Magical Britain."

"Such assurances mean little from a man behind a mask," Dumbledore replied.

"He's one to talk," Hermione whispered to Harry.

"So let's cut to it then, shall we? You value your secrecy, Mr. Jupiter. What will you do to stop me from telling every agency from the Daily Prophet to the Quibbler (nodding to Luna) about what you've done here, and everything I saw?" Sirius cracked his knuckles menacingly and leaned forward in his chair.

Jupiter looked to each of his colleagues, who communicated silently with each other. "Nothing," he replied.

"So you don't care? You really don't think it would affect you if I told everyone that you've been exposing Mrs. Longbottom to…" Jupiter cut Sirius short, wagging his finger.

"I mean that I will _do_ nothing in exchange for your silence. Breaking and entering a controlled Ministry location, especially the Department of Mysteries, can result in sentences up to and including the Dementor's Kiss. So, in exchange for _everyone's_ silence on the matters extending to the past seven weeks, I am willing to do _nothing at all_ and let you all go on your merry ways." He turned to look directly at Harry. "This includes any matter involving Artifact F." Turning to Neville, he added, "Alice Longbottom stays with us. It would be as if none of this happened at all."

"Such small details can change the world in such interesting ways," Luna spoke for the first time. "The humdingers are just buzzing with excitement." Few people paid her any attention.

"My job is in the details. I can assure you we can look over, or overlook each and every detail of today's little problem," Jupiter added.

"I'm sure you have no idea," Luna answered, smiling. "Come on, then. Sometimes the bad choice is the only choice." Every member of the Hogwarts group looked at each other and nodded.

"Good. I love it when people simply agree to keep their mouths shut," Jupiter said. He and the rest of the Unspeakables stood up and left the room silently.

* * *

"So, less than a day, huh?" Hermione asked. They decided to take the rest of the day off at Hogsmeade.

"Well, I was thinking of breaking out myself if they kept me longer than that," Harry joked. "But the treacle tart was just _too_ good. So what'd I miss?"

"Six weeks and six days of your life?" Fred suggested.

"Other than that."

"They told us you caught something nasty from those worms you were fighting. Taking you away for special treatment immediately. That was the excuse they had for Hogwarts the next day," Ron started.

"Except Ivan practically had his leg bitten off, and covered himself in worm blood at one point. They didn't take him. It was obvious they were lying," Hermione noted.

"We didn't have a clue until they invited me to see my mother. Said they figured out how to recreate what happened at St. Mungo's," Neville explained. "We all knew it was a load of bollocks, but we had no proof. Then, after the first session, I just _knew_ it was you. I gues that's not any more proof than before, but I was certain."

"Your patronus. I knew it was you after seeing it," Harry confirmed. "How did you do the talking thing?"

A look of confusion struck Neville. "I thought you were the one who figured it out first. You very clearly said, 'Hello Neville' to me. The only problem is I didn't receive the message until I woke up again."

"Once we figured out patronuses could be used as messengers, we started testing and refining it in SNAPE Society. I think it's the new fad now. These two mastered it almost right away," Hermione said, pointing at the twins.

"Well, obviously a message that can't be intercepted-" Fred began.

"And only reveals itself to its intended recipient-"

"Not to mention lets the sender know _when_ it's been received-"

"Is a very crucial tool for any prankster," George finished.

"Neville? I think it's time for you to teach me a few tricks," Harry smiled, giving Neville a hearty slap on the back. "I think there's a lot of studying I have to catch up with in the next few days."

"That's not all the catching up you have to do," Ron said.

"Hey, he's still in first place!" Sirius said. "It won't be a problem!"

"What are you talking about again?" Harry asked. "Ohhh…" He suddenly came to the realization that the Trial of Earth wasn't one day ago, it was seven weeks in the past. And that meant…

"You scored zero in the last Trial of Champions," Ron said.

"_ZERO?_ I was- ugh. How did Fleur and Ivan do?"

"Well, Fleur's actually quite good at hide-and-seek. She tracked down Ivan five minutes after the starting bell," Ron explained.

"Wow. An easy win for her, then?"

"Not exactly," Hermione cut in. "You remember how you actually have to _capture_ the other contestant? And normally, it should be two against one? Well, with you out of the picture, it became a regular duel in the forest. And Durmstrang obviously has a lot of duelling in their curriculum. Fleur found him easily enough, but she couldn't actually subdue him."

"As for the second round… things got a little hairy," Neville continued. "Like Ron said, Fleur was really good at hiding. Ivan didn't have a clue about tracking her down. So… he got fed up and tried to burn the forest down."

Harry's eyes bulged out. "That's a little overkill, wouldn't you say?"

"Not for him, apparently. And the rules didn't cover 'setting forests ablaze' so the judges couldn't call a foul. They had a hell of a cleanup job to do afterwards, though."

"Speaking of rules, I wasn't allowed to compete in your place," Hermione added. Harry had almost forgotten the rule about the Champion's consort until she mentioned it. "The official word from the Ministry was that you were suffering from a 'tournament-related injury.' The Department of Mysteries must have some really powerful wards if they could fool the Goblet of Fire into believing that lie." Hermione crossed her arms in frustration.

"Well, our father always told us that the DoM's always been a bit on the shady side," Fred explained.

"Lie, cheat, and steal. Their _modus operandi_. I guess we can add kidnapping to the list, too," George continued.

"The first thing they'd have perfected was figuring out ways to cheat themselves out of magical contracts and such. Rumour has it they've become so good at faking deaths they can fool prophecies."

"That's just a load of bollocks. Nobody's _that_ powerful. They're called prophecies for a reason. They always come true," Ron laughed. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other uneasily, but said nothing.

"Anyway, Harry, to sum it all up: you went from a hundred-point lead to a ten-point lead after the last event. And you've got about… one week to get ready to fight a dragon."

* * *

"Did we collect enough data about the runes?" Jupiter asked.

"Amazingly simple, but it requires an anchor of some sort. Rather curious. The girl had them as well," the Unspeakable said.

"Good. This'll give Cronus and his cronies something new to fuss over."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes**

- Curveball! There were a couple reasons i went with this chapter and tossed out a more predictable one where Harry goes through more school and the Tournament... part of it was that Harry was kicking too much ass in the tournament so far, and I wanted to make things a little more even before the final event. Secondly, there were a few plot elements I wanted to explore a little more as well.

- In the Order of the Phoenix, the Order has to guard the Department of Mysteries. They're a volunteer group. One's a desk worker. Other members include a housewife, a rookie auror, and a thief. The Department of Mysteries holds tons of important and/or dangerous information and objects for the Ministry. Why as a volunteer task force even necessary to guard anything at all?


	62. The Trial of Fire

**Author's Notes:** JKR created the sandbox of Harry Potter, but I'm bringing some of my own sand.

- Merry Christmas!

- Random thoughts on Ron: Deathly Hallows was the book that solidified my opinion of him. Given that's the last book, he really didn't have any more chances to redeem himself. The thing is, he didn't have to be an ass, and the plot of the story could still have worked.

- Harry and Hermione had to suffer the "loss" of their best friend for a few chapters, and show how less productive they were without him. (I think they were doing just fine, by the way. Losing Ron didn't exactly slow them down.) They didn't have to "lose" their friend because _he walked out on them_.

- Alternative: he could have nobly sacrificed himself by luring Snatchers away from the campsite while he's on guard. Ron from the books has never done something like that since... Philosopher's Stone.

- Harry and Hermione needed to be less productive. In the books, they managed to achieve quite a bit without Ron... almost like they didn't even need him anyway. As far as I could tell, the only downside to becoming a duo was feeling a little depressed. And if people can blame the locket for Ron's ditching, then Harry/Hermione were only sad because they were wearing the locket even more. Ha.

- Ron still gets to use the Deluminator to reunite the trio this way. Let's say he miraculously breaks free from the Snatchers, but Harry and Hermione have fled (and they can't afford to leave clues the Snatchers could find). Ron thinks about them while hiding from his captors (using the deluminator) and it shows him the way. There. In the books, the situation is framed in a way that Ron is such a jerk that Dumbledore could predict he'd walk out on them before his death. By doing it this way, the deluminator isn't a tool to fix Ron's flaws, it's a tool to aid him in his (supposed) strength of uniting the trio.

- Bah. I'm of the opinion that Ron doesn't have to be a jerkass. I've read good fanfics that really help Ron grow into a good guy (like Nightmares of Futures Past), but if JKR can't think of ways to create drama without Ron being an ass, then he's an ass. Just because Harry forgives him doesn't mean he's an OK guy. It just means Harry's too biased to see his friend's flaws and call him out on it. Everyone probably has a friend who's dating a real jerk, you want them to break up, but they keep saying, "oh, but they were so nice to me just the other day..."

* * *

**Chapter 62: The Trial of Fire**

"My advice? Forfeit," Sirius said. "If you're lucky, your competition will be stupid enough to actually fight the dragon and get eaten. Winner by default!" He shot his arms into the air in a mock cheer.

"And you call yourself a godfather! Here, I've already found a few textbooks for you to read," Hermione said, dropping a stack of tomes that rattled the table. "So far, each one's been recommending teams of five or more, but I'm sure if I keep looking I'll find some advice for going solo."

"You won't find any, unless you're looking at a copy of Guts and Gory. Fun book, by the way. You won't find it in the Hogwarts Library," Sirius assured Hermione while winking at Harry.

"Charlie tells us stories about the dragon reserves whenever he visits home for the hols," Ron said. "I don't think they ever have less than seven. Unless Harkus, the half-giant, is there. But he counts as two."

The conversation slumped back into silence. Sirius and Remus finally had a chance to see Harry again after the "rescue." They offered another one of their brooms to use, but Harry declined- he was going to use his own, the original feather-broom design. He needed to be quick to outmaneuver a dragon. All three of the contestants would be facing against the native Welsh greens, which many would say was a smaller and less dangerous variety.

The real problem was where the golden egg lay. Some genius decided that it would be more exciting to have the golden egg on a chain around the dragon's neck. While the Welsh greens weren't as destructive as a Hungarian horntail, nor as armored as a Ukranian ironbelly, it compensated by nimble and flexible- making it the _deadliest_ dragon for this particular exercise. With the horntail, Harry could have had a chance at sticking himself in between the dragon's wings and do everything he needed. Horntails weren't very good at scratching their backs. Greens were.

"Maybe we're approaching this all wrong. I think we just need to find an alternative method of cutting the chain," Remus suggested.

"How, though? Harry, how far can you throw a cutting charm?" Hermione asked.

"Never tested it. But I think I could probably cast as far as Zonko's storefront from here," Harry said, looking down the main street of Hogsmeade. "Not that accurately, though. I'd be lucky to actually _hit_ Zonko's."

"Yeah, a green could probably throw a fireball in retaliation at that distance." Remus slumped back into his chair, defeated. The rules of the Trial of Fire made it _seem_ easy enough. The champions were allowed to bring any tool they could carry in themselves. All they had to do was retrieve a golden egg. Against what was supposedly one of the least dangerous breeds of dragon. They even had a safe zone to retreat. On parchment, it sounded like a perfectly safe event.

"Crossbow!" Ron suddenly piped up, breaking the silence. "Maybe Harry could shoot the egg with a crossbow! You know, like the old fairy tale, the Mirrored Witch and the Evil Huntsman?" Everyone but Harry and Hermione nodded in understanding.

"The bolt would have to be powerful enough to cut through steel," Harry pointed out. "If we could layer enough enchantments on, maybe. But who has a crossbow around here? We don't have time to make one from scratch."

The three teens looked at each other. "Hagrid."

* * *

"Harry! Nice of yeh ta come visit," Hagrid said, waving to the group. "And yeh brought Black and Perfesser Lupin, too!" The group of them cheerfully entered the hut. Fang laid in front of the door, too lazy to move out of the way as everyone stepped over him. Hargid put on a pot of tea while they settled in.

The topic of dragons inevitably led to Hagrid going on and on about how cute and cuddly they were. Welsh greens, according to him, were the squishiest of all dragons. The idea of hurting one, to him, was about as cruel as kicking a puppy. He still wanted Harry to try to lure his dragon close to his seat, though.

"Funny thing, I tell yeh. At all the other Triwizard events, I could only afford the back row seats. For this one, fron' row was the cheapest! I wonder why they'd do it like tha'?"

"Just enjoy your good fortune, Hagrid," Remus said. "We'll be watching too, right behind you." _Only about a hundred rows behind,_ he mentally added.

"So, Harry! Are yeh lookin' fer some advice on how ta handle yer dragon? I can tell yeh, the Greens, they love bein' tickled jus' behind their knees. It's their softest spot! O' course, yeh gotta get 'im all plumped up with a few sheep first. Five oughta do it."

"I can't carry five sheep with me into the arena, Hagrid," Harry sighed. "I was thinking of borrowing your crossbow, if you'd let me."

"-an then yeh gotta step aside, because they like their food roasted. Wait, what was that, Harry? Wha'd'ya need me crossbow for? Little greenie could get hurt if yer not careful!"

"We're just planning on using it to break the chain around its neck!" Harry felt a little annoyed at how Hagrid could possibly be so infatuated with dragons, with little regard for his or his friends'safety. But then again, it wasn't the first time. He just had to make sure Hagrid didn't get to keep one of the dragons after the event.

After thinking about it for a few moments, Hagrid got up and rummaged through a cupboard full of tools. "Alright, Harry. I trust yeh. But this takes quite a bit o' muscle to work properly. Yeh better get practisin'." He handed Harry the crossbow, which went up to his shoulders, standing upright. He never remembered it being this large- but then again, he'd only ever seen it while Hagrid was holding it, and it looked normal-sized… for him.

"Well," Sirius laughed. "Let's test it out!"

The group marched outside. From just behind Hagrid's hut, it was probably a quarter mile to the woods. "I usually aim fer that tree o'er there to make sure she's workin' alright," Hagrid said. He picked up the crossbow, drawing back the bowstring and loading a bolt. Harry was aware that Hagrid's veins were bulging ever so slightly as he did it. With a simple pull of the trigger, the bolt was released through the air. A deep, resounding _THUNK_ reached their ears several seconds later.

Clearly it was powerful, but Harry doubted it could pierce metal with it. Hermione and Remus joined him in a brainstorm about how to make the crossbow even more powerful. A banishing charm tied to the stock, reinforcement charms on the string, stiffening charms on the bow, among others. They decided to try them all at once and handed the crossbow back to Hagrid. This time, the heavily-enchanted crossbow felled the tree Hagrid was aiming at.

Hagrid loaded up the crossbow one again and handed it to Harry. "Looks like I've got me firewood for next winter. Now you try, Harry."

The crossbow wasn't difficult to lift, per se. Keeping it horizontal and steady was a whole other story. Harry was almost certain he'd throw out his back before he could finish aiming. And his aim, thus far, was limited to not shooting his own foot, or his friends.

The weight was literally lifted from from Harry's arms when the crossbow began to float by itself at his shoulder height. He glanced backwards to see Hermione winking and putting her wand away. _Note to self, lightweight or hover runes first_, he noted. He aimed more carefully at the same tree that Hagrid hit and pulled the trigger.

The crossbow launched the bolt from its track, Harry was launched off his feet. His flailing threw off his aim, causing the bolt to arc high in the air. It landed in the grass well in front of the forest a few seconds after Harry landed amongst the lettuce Hagrid was growing.

"Congratulations, Harry. You managed to aim at a forest and miss," Sirius chuckled.

"Ha ha, Sirius. I'd like to see you try," Harry retorted.

Thirty seconds later and Sirius joined Harry in the lettuce patch. Ron sniggered, leading Harry and Sirius to give him death glares.

When three young men were all wallowing in the mud, Hermione spoke up. "Are you boys ready to look for a different solution?"

"I think we can work with this," Sirius said. "It's powerful. Got a good kick to it. Powerful is good."

"Yeah, I especially like the part where it nearly broke my shoulder," Harry added. "I just need to improve my aim a little and I've got the Trial of Fire in the bag."

"If you can manage to hit Hogwarts castle from inside it, I'll call it progress."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You boys can't be serious."

Sirius grinned wildly and moved his mouth, but no sound came out. Hermione looked up to see that Remus had his wand out, pointing at his old friend. "I'm glad I stopped _that_ one." Sirius gave him a pitiful look and tried to dispel the spell with his own wand, but failed. "Nuh-uh. You think that was a basic silencing charm?" Remus sniggered. "This is the one Lily specifically asked me to invent to use on James in sixth year, if you remember."

Harry made a note to get Remus to teach him that spell later. He got up, hauled the crossbow out of Sirius's arms, and handed it over to Hagrid. "Could you reload it again? I want to see if I can make this work."

With a reloaded crossbow, he cast the hover charm himself, and a stability charm that was usually used on brooms. It made the crossbow much easier to aim. On top of the dozen power-enhancing charms they already had on it, Harry was acutely aware that the crossbow could shatter from being magically overloaded. He handled it very gently.

This time, instead of the far-away tree, he aimed at a boulder on the field halfway between the hut and the forest. _Crack!_ The bolt sent chips of rock flying away, leaving the rock cracked in half. The bolt itself shattered on impact. At the other end, Harry remained standing, although he was sure he'd find an ugly bruise on his shoulder in an hour. That didn't matter, though. The crossbow could clearly do some damage to stone (or metal), although they had to enchant it to its limits with so many spells to make it useable.

"Are you sure you'll be able to get it in one shot?" Ron asked. "You can't carry Hagrid in with you for Trial."

As the others chattered on about how much practice it would take for Harry to hit a moving, flame-spewing target reliably, Harry just sat down and cast a few healing charms on his shoulder. He flopped down onto the grass, ignoring all the others and delved deeply into his own mind. _How did I handle this before?_ he thought. _Ok, last time I died in the Trial of Champions… scratch that. The one before was when I snuffed myself with the basilisk, so that doesn't count. Then there was the riot at the Quidditch World Cup, that was a short trip. The one before that was… a year without the Tournament at all, I think. Wait, I was in fifth year. Sirius died! There was one where I nearly won the tournament… but that involved something at night… fireflies? Pyreflies?_ The further back he went, the fuzzier the time-travel memories became. He was almost certain he'd never faced a dragon in the tournament, though. That was definitely new for this round. There weren't any clues hidden in his memories of his past futures.

_Right,_ he reminded himself. _That was before I trained in occlumency. And then we redesigned the beacon._ Beacon. "That's it! Someone, conjure me some parchment!" Hermione watched as Harry wrote out a few of the most basic runes that formed their beacon, and then worked on the arithmantic equations to go with it. She sat down beside him and they worked on it together for the next half hour. "Thanks, Hermione. That was brilliant," Harry said, giving her a peck on the cheek.

Harry quickly incanted, "_Find this_." A little orange bolt flew from his wand, taking a few seconds to reach the distant rock he was aiming at. He then picked up a bolt and incanted, "_Guide this_."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "English spells?"

"I need to keep it as simple and easy to cast as possible," Harry said.

"What's tha' yer doin' there, Harry?" Hagrid asked as he loaded up the crossbow for him.

"I cast a homing charm I just worked out on the rock there. Now with a matching guiding charm on this bolt…" Harry decided that testing out his idea would be the best explanation. He shot the bolt into the air, and watched it curve around to strike the rock.

"You realize this means you're going to have to get close enough to the dragon to cast this spell anyway, don't you?" Sirius pointed out, having finally rid himself of the Remus' silencing charm.

"I've considered it. Casting this spell once is easier than landing on the dragon itself and trying to cast twenty cutting charms in a row," Harry said.

"I am going to _smother_ you in flame-freezing charms before the events start," Hermione said.

"You'd better practice your flying," Sirius said.

"Yeah, I doubt even a professional seeker like Viktor Krum could come out of that without getting singed a little," Ron added. Harry was suddenly very curious to find out.

"Do we have a plan B?" Remus asked.

"Uh… well, the best I could think of was borrowing the Sword of Gryffindor and hacking the chain off. Goblin steel beats regular steel, right?" Harry thought aloud.

* * *

The remainder of the week consisted of Harry doing more testing on the Duster Mk II. More precisely, it was about how well it managed to retain their flame-freezing and ember-ender charms. The flying was the most critical part of Harry's plan to beat the Trial of Fire, so he had to turn down Sirius' offer to use one of the Black Feather's company brooms. Their offer extended to Ron and Hermione, though, who used them to help Harry train.

After classes, Harry would around the Quidditch pitch while Hermione or Ron would cast _Incendio_ at him as continuously. It didn't take long for Harry to easily outmaneuver the two of them, so the next day they moved on to practicing his accuracy. While Ron continued to cast the flame hex, Harry tried to tag Hermione with the _Find this_ spell. It was a simple enough spell that Harry could do it silently after a day. Incidentally, Ron had learned how to cast _Incendio_ silently as his voice went hoarse after hours of casting at Harry.

At night, however, Harry and Hermione ditched their brooms and went flying in their feathered forms. One night they perched above the Astronomy tower, on another they visited the owlery to invite Hedwig. Harry occasionally went fishing in the Black Lake for a midnight snack for the two of them, which always tasted better in animal form. Invariably, they would find some time alone to enjoy the starry skies. Harry was surprised at how eager Hermione was to fly with him, but then again, she'd been missing him for almost two months. He couldn't imagine how much stress she'd been under.

The last day before the Trial of Fire, Harry went in for his first fumation lesson with Dumbledore in two months. Technically, for him, it was only a week ago, but the timing of the lessons was thrown off. Despite his speedy learning rate, the lost weeks and the need to catch up on schoolwork meant he wouldn't be able to complete the technique before the final task of the tournament.

Harry also decided to use the time with Dumbledore to collect the Sword of Gryffindor. He didn't realize how much he'd grown since second year until he grasped it. "Are you sure this is the same sword?" he asked, holding it out in front of him with one hand. He remembered barely being able to control it with both hands back in second year.

"Absolutely, Harry. And it's just as deadly as before- do mind the basilisk venom blade," Dumbledore told him.

"You haven't used it for anything, have you?" Harry asked, half-jokingly.

"Well, I do suppose I've used its blade to admire the silky sheen of my beard," Dumbledore joked, stroking said beard while looking at his reflection in the blade. "Has there been a recent basilisk infestation that I should be aware of?"

Harry wondered what he would risk if he probed more about the horcruxes. He supposed it didn't hurt to ask in the most innocent way he could think of. "Well, I was just wondering if Tom Riddle had made more than one diary… I wouldn't want what happened to Ginny to happen again."

His eyes locked on Dumbledore's. The ever-present twinkle disappeared. He noticed the headmaster's lips part slightly as his jaw slacked for a second. Then, suddenly, the headmaster pulled himself together, putting on a confident façade. "No, Harry. That was the only diary Tom ever made. I'm certain of it. Don't worry about it any more… and good luck tomorrow." He ushered Harry out of his office a little more urgently than normal.

_Half-truths as usual_, Harry confirmed. As soon as he was past the gargoyle, he hopped out the nearest window for another night flight.

* * *

The Trial of Fire was, by far, the most popular event of the entire tournament. Despite that, the first five rows of seats in the Quidditch stadium were nearly empty, save for a few dragon handlers (including Charlie Weasley) and Hagrid. Even the judges had decided to take box seats. It also made the lone Unspeakable sitting in the third row stick out like a sore thumb. Hermione, Ron, and Sirius made sure he (or she?) couldn't do more than observe. What he was observing Harry for was anyone's guess.

Down at ground level, the situation was getting heated enough without any giant flaming lizards in sight. "Welcome back, boy," Ivan sneered at Harry. "Did your nurse tuck you in tight enough every night? Did you drink all of your milk?" He laughed dismissively at Harry.

"Plenty of milk. I was eating treacle tart as you were bumbling through the forest. Thought I might give you a chance to catch up. Shame you're still behind on points."

Ivan didn't stop boasting. "We have drakes and wyrms roaming the mountains of Durmstrang. Fighting this dragon is like a hobby for me. What is the worst you've faced, boy? A dog? A gnome?"

"Basilisk," Harry replied, gently flapping his cloak to point it out. "Although my first year started with a cerberus and a troll, so yes, I've faced dogs before. And a bigger version of a gnome."

Ivan turned around, waving Harry off in disgust. Clearly his attempts at demoralizing Harry were backfiring. Fleur had stayed out of the exchange, staying silent in the back corner of the tent, but now that Ivan had stepped outside, she spoke up.

"You don't seem to be ze type to lie about such things… really? Cerberus?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't fight it. I just nearly got eaten by it," Harry admitted.

"In your first year? 'Ow far did you wander from your school grounds?" she asked.

"Third floor hallway," Harry shrugged. Upon seeing Fleur's disbelieving face, he added, "Our headmaster is very likely insane." He tried to figure out what Fleur was planning on doing for this event. She was carrying a small, hard leather case- slightly larger than a briefcase, and oddly shaped.

Fleur caught him staring. "You will find out what iz in 'ere soon enough," she smiled mischievously. "I will only say zat Beauxbatons has one of ze most recognized magical arts programmes in all of Europe."

Harry wondered where all the portrait-painters came from. He didn't remember art or music as an option when he had to pick his courses for third year. As for magical photography, Colin was the only one who came to mind, but that kid was obviously self-taught. "That's quite interesting. Hogwarts has nothing like that. I not even sure we have a school choir."

"Surely, ze spellcrafting at 'Ogwarts is top notch! " Fleur proclaimed. Upon seeing Harry's blank look, she continued. "You crafted your own broom, even better than ze Firebolt! Did you not apply to 'Ogwarts for ze arithmancy and runecrafting?"

"I… I didn't even know that's what Hogwarts was known for. Those courses are optional, in any case," Harry admitted.

"You are a _strange_ one, 'Arry Potter," Fleur echoed her sentiments from the Trial of Wind.

Harry laughed. Coming from a Veela, that was quite the statement. "I gave up on normal a long time ago," he joked.

They heard the announcement for the first competitor- Ivan- to begin his attempt. Not being able to see, Harry asked Fleur, "What do you suppose his strategy will be?"

"Fight fire wiz fire. Zat idiot wants to solve all his problems by burning zem away," she spat angrily. Harry didn't want to mention it, but Fleur's hair was much shorter. Like most of it had been lost in an accident. Or not an accident, depending on whose perspective you took.

* * *

Outside, Ivan marched boldly towards the dragon. With shield and armour covering his body, he wasn't showing any fear at all. Maintaining a flame-whip on his wand, he snapped and swung it around as he marched ahead. Striking the rocks and debris scattered about the arena drew the dragon's attention. He was making sure the dragon knew _he_ was the dominant one.

Of course, a male dragon during breeding season simply couldn't let that challenge go unanswered. It pounded the ground with its forelimbs in an aggressive stance and roared. The audience clapped and cheered, some of them nervously.

Ivan quickened his pace, snapping the flame whip as if he were directing a lion at a circus. The dragon upped the ante by spitting a sulfurous ball of flame. Ivan didn't bother dodging, relying on his flameproof armour to take the hit. He quickened the pace forward and extended the whip's reach to his limits, lashing out at the dragon from twenty meters away. As the dragon flinched, he quickly ended the flame whip spell and shouted, _"Tereburere!"_ A spiralling spear of magma shot directly towards the dragon's eye. The beast saw it coming, moving out of the line of fire easily with its flexible neck.

As Ivan waved his wands through his next spell's motions, the dragon spewed out a continuous stream of flame. Without enough time to duck behind a rock, Ivan curled down to a tight ball, pulling the shield over his body and cast a quick flame-freezing charm. The audience watched with bated breath as the seemingly endless flame turned everything in its wake to ashes. With a grunt and a puff of smoke from its nostrils, the Welsh Green stomped up towards the charred lump, expecting a nicely roasted meal.

Instead, Ivan burst out of his sooty cocoon, tossing aside the now-useless shield. He cast another magma-drilling hex before the dragon could react, spearing it through the eye and taking a bit of the socket with it. The dragon roared in pain and swiped at Ivan with its claws, throwing him across the stadium. Ivan bounced off the wards meant to protect the audience, and struggled to get back on to his feet.

He looked up to see a rampaging dragon charging towards him. "_Flass bruutei!"_ he screamed, trying to buy himself some time. A thunderclap and a bright flash burst from his wand, blinding and deafening thirty rows of spectators. The raging beast, however, was almost completely unaffected. Its own roar nearly matched the noise from the spell; and it already knew where Ivan was standing. He had to dive to the side as the dragon crashed into the barrier.

He conjured a set of wooden spikes, banishing them towards the dragon's good eye. They peppered the skin over the dragon's face, but didn't cause any vital damage. The attack only served to anger it more. It snapped its sharp teeth at Ivan, who had to scramble away. He tried again as soon as he regained his footing, conjuring larger stone spears and banishing those. They missed- the angry thrashing from the dragon did nothing to help his aim. He just needed to get the dragon to hold still long enough to blind the other eye.

Ivan spied an especially large boulder. He conjured thick ropes around it, but another jet of flame burned them to a crisp before he could cast a flame-warding charm. He jumped behind the boulder to save himself from being toasted as well. When the flames ended, he carefully peeked around the corner. The dragon was staring straight at him, not ten feet from where he stood. He jumped back behind the boulder.

_WHACK._ He'd forgotten about how far Greens could reach with their tails…

* * *

Fleur decided to be a bit more subtle, if boring. She sniggered at Ivan's idiotic attempt to take a dragon head-on, no matter how close he was to success. It was a shame his hair didn't catch fire, though. Poetic justice would have to wait for another day. She began by staying well outside the range of her dragon, setting up a large silencing ward to block out the loud cheers of the crowd. The cheering turned to booing after a lack of excitement for ten minutes. It didn't matter, though. She couldn't hear them, and neither could the dragon.

She opened up the case she was carrying, and unpacked a magical lyre. She cast _Sonorus_ on both herself and the instrument, and then began to play. Her song was like a delicate lullaby, sung at a volume that would have deafened anyone nearby. It seemed just right for the dragon, which only looked at Fleur lazily before laying its head down to sleep.

She cast a spell to keep the lyre playing automatically. The song the spell played wasn't as creative or emotional as when she'd been controlling it herself, but it appeared to keep the dragon asleep. Good. She slowly approached the creature while continuing to sing.

As she got closer, she noticed a problem. The dragon was laying on top of the golden egg. She had to cast a tunneling charm that tossed dirt aside, digging under the dragon's neck and giving her access to the egg.

Unfortunately for Fleur, some of the dirt flew up near the dragon's nose.

It sneezed.

Fleur's song faltered.

The lullaby's enchantment was broken.

The dragon opened its eyes, noticing a tasty meal was standing within licking range. It reared up, ready to strike. Fleur cast a disillusionment on herself and ran as fast as her legs could take her, snatching her lyre and hiding behind a large rock. The dragon, bound to one side of the arena, pulled its restraints taut trying sniff her out.

It took her almost ten minutes to calm herself down enough that her hands could actually begin playing music again. This time, she chose to continue playing herself, hopefully to drive the dragon into a deeper slumber. From behind the rock, she continued to sing and play until she could hear the dragon settle down, and then slowly approached it.

It was the same issue as her first attempt- the way the egg was chained to the dragon caused it to lay directly under the beast's body. She set the lyre down beside her and enchanted it to play itself again. This time, she carefully excavated a small amount of dirt at a time, vanishing it as she went. She desperately wanted it to be over because her throat was getting dry and her voice was becoming hoarse, but she couldn't risk waking the beast.

She eventually managed to excavate enough to step down and reach the golden egg, but she still had to cut it off from the chain. She cast a strong cutting charm. It nicked the thick metal chain. By her estimate, it would probably take another six attempts on the same spot to fully break the egg away.

She cast again. The notch in the chain cut more deeply, but she also struck some of the dragon's skin. The magically resistant dragonhide didn't break, but it must have tickled it. The dragon gave a frightening snort and shifted in its sleep. Fleur continued singing, despite her fear.

A third cutting charm brought her almost halfway through the chainlink, and unavoidably struck the dragon's neck again. This time, it shifted more, scratching its neck. As it brought down its claw again, it smashed the lyre to pieces.

The song ended. The dragon was still sleepy, and Fleur didn't dare risk tickling it again with another cutting charm. She carefully crawled out of the hole under its neck, leaving the golden egg dangling on its weakened chain. She tiptoed out of the dragon's clutches, and once she was out of earshot, she ran for cover. She shot red sparks up into the air to signal that she was forfeiting, and waited.

She heard the dragon wake up. It was sniffing around for her again. Where were the dragon handlers?

Weighing her options, she shot up another red flare. The dragon saw it, and again strained the restraints as it tried to take a bite out of Fleur. Unable to get any further, it spat a few fireballs to coax her out of hiding. She did her best to remain hidden, managing the flames with flame-freezing charms and liberal use of _Aguamenti_.

Still, no help was coming. What was going on? She shot up a third red flare, and carefully peeked around the corner.

Every person in the stadium was asleep. Including the judges and the dragon handlers.

* * *

The long delay that Fleur caused meant Harry had his event in the evening instead of afternoon as originally scheduled. There wasn't really any change to his plans other than the fact that he was _hungry_. And now he had to fight a dragon that was equally hungry as well.

He began by taking some weight off his shoulders- Hagrid's crossbow and the Sword of Gryffindor, which he placed behind a rock well outside the dragon's spitting range. He mounted his broom and launched himself towards the dragon, hoping to get the dangerous part over with quickly.

On his first pass, he stayed far out of reach of the dragon. It kept an eye on him as he flew by, its tongue flickering out of its mouth. Harry attempted to cast _Find this_ at the dragon. It reacted to the bright bolt of magic, all the more visible in the darkening sky. The movement caused the spell to miss the chain bearing the golden egg, landing on the dragon's neck instead.

Harry swooped down closer to cast _finite incantatem_, which had a shorter range. Unfortunately, this was exactly what the dragon was hoping Harry would do as it leapt up and snapped its head forward like a cobra strike. A quick flip and dive brought him out of harm's way, setting him up in perfect position to cast the beacon spell again.

And miss again. As the dragon whirled its long neck around to take a second bite at Harry, the chain slid from its original position. Once again, Harry was forced to make another pass to cancel the spell and try again.

All the while, he couldn't help but notice a giant pair of arms waving at him from the front row. _Right_. Fleur and Ivan didn't give Hagrid the close encounter he wanted. He circled high above the dragon to take a breather while trying to get a better sense of the layout. If he just attacked from a certain angle, he could lure the dragon closer to Hagrid. He wouldn't risk any more than that for the big dragon fanatic.

His next approach came down from the dragon's rear left. He passed by above its neck, once again aiming for the chain as he cast. A swat from the dragon's tail forced him to dodge, throwing his aim off once again. He shot forward until he was just in front of Hagrid, where he stopped and hovered. The dragon _was_ giving chase, as he'd hoped. It would arrive in _five… four… three… bollocks, a fireball!_

The flames splashed against the protective barriers, to Hagrid's delight. The giant didn't notice the other spectators behind him scrambling out of their seats. The dragon crashed into the barrier, roaring in anger as Harry shot upwards as fast as he could grip the broom. The half-giant couldn't be happier.

_That's enough of that_, thought Harry. He turned around to see the dragon had now taken off and was flying up towards him. Normally, they wouldn't waste that much energy for such small prey. This one had a grudge.

Harry continued to climb upwards, looking over his shoulder to dodge the continuous pelting of fireballs. Within seconds, though, Harry heard an uncharacteristic squawk. The dragon had run out of rope, and the restraints tied to its hind leg yanked it back down to the ground. He took this opportunity to quickly reverse and dive after the dragon while it was still disoriented for another chance at landing the beacon spell.

The dragon's wings were creating massive amounts of turbulence as it tried to right itself. Harry fought through the currents, determined to get it right for sure this time, but the tumbling and beating of the wings prevented him from getting a good aim. He had to get closer.

He flew straight for the dragon's neck. It noticed. Harry whipped around the dragon, using its own neck to shield him from its teeth. It worked. He let go of the broom, grabbing the chain with his right hand. "_Find this!"_ he shouted.

The dragon had finally regained control in the air, and was now concentrating on getting rid of the human that was latched onto its neck. A sweep of its tail and a heavy flap of its wings bucked Harry off the chain. With no hands on his broom, he found himself falling straight down while the broom fluttered away in another direction.

"_Accio-_" Harry stopped mid-cast. The dragon decided to chase after the broom instead of him. Animal instincts, perhaps? The giant bundle of feathers on a stick probably looked tasty. It didn't matter, as long as it wasn't trying to eat _him_. While the dragon was distracted, he shifted into his osprey form and glided to safety. He really didn't want to have is secret let out this way, but he didn't want to be eaten by a dragon even more. Dumbledore already knew- and how much worse could the general public be with that knowledge? It wasn't the time to dwell on that now, though. He had a Trial to finish.

Landing beside the crossbow and sword, he began setting up enchantments on the crossbow. When it was practically pulsing with magic, he loaded up the equally-enchanged bolt and cast, "_Guide this_." If he remembered correctly, he landed the _Find this_ spell on the dragon's underside, just above the actual golden egg. A powerful _lumos_ got the attention of the dragon, which was busy chewing up his broom at the time. When it turned to face the light, Harry caught a glint of the golden egg. The dragon was rearing up, ready to throw fireballs at Harry. He pulled the trigger.

The sharp whistle of the bolt flying through the air ended with a metallic _clang_, telling him the bolt had hit its mark. The fireball fizzled out overhead, unable to continue burning at such a great distance. Harry strained his eyes to watch for the chain breaking and the golden egg fall to the ground. He didn't see it. He probably needed to strike the chain with another bolt. In order to reload, he had to de-enchant everything on the crossbow first, and then use both hands and feet to cock it. At least he could do it from a safe distance.

He was just about ready to re-enchant the crossbow all over again when there was a loud cracking sound. A lot like a hatching egg. He peeked over the boulder again, just in time to see the golden egg glow brightly, and then explode in a cloud of glittering dust.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," Harry muttered dropping his face into his weary, grimy palms.

* * *

_**No Winners In Trial of Fire Means a Close Race for the Grand Task of the Tournament!**_

_Richard Kingston, Daily Prophet Sports_

_Tickets now selling for the winner-take-all final event in the Triwizard Tournament! In the last Trial of the Tournament, our intrepid hometown hero Harry Potter scored second place with with 10 points out of a possible 100. Despite gallantly flying with his own broom design (first seen during the Trial of Air) and excellent use of a siege-sized crossbow, he suffered major deductions for destroying his prize. It should be noted that he was the only champion that did not require rescue from the dragon handlers at the end of his attempt._

_The same couldn't be said for Fleur Delacour, who scored the lowest in the event for causing the judges to fall asleep and miss everything she attempted to do. Some audience members claim she was the closest of the three to retrieving the golden egg, but their accounts could not be confirmed._

_Ivan Kolov was the top scoring champion with 16 points. With an awe-inspiring full-frontal assault, the only flaw in his strategy was the fact that his opponent was a dragon, something he seemed to have forgotten in his preparations. Much of his deductions come from the need for dragon handlers to save his life._

_Despite missing the third Trial of Champions and scoring a zero as a result of illness, Hogwarts' Champion is still in the lead with a total score of 409 out of a possible 700 points. The Durmstrang champion is in a close second with 393, and the Beauxbatons vixen is at a not-too-distant third with 351. Who will be the first to reach the summit on June 21__st__? Buy your tickets early and you can have a chance to view the Triwizard Cup in-person even before the Champions can get their hands on it! Seating is limited! Reserve your spot now!_

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Yes, everyone fails. I was playing the scenario through my head about how much harder it would be if the egg was strapped to the dragon instead sitting by itself in a nest. Then I had to remind myself there are _professional_ dragon handlers like Charlie, and I'm sure he doesn't work alone. Harry might be strong, but he can't be better than an adult dragon _specialist_, especially with only a week's preparation.

- One of the funniest problems with the canon tournament was that there were no spectators, except for the dragon task. In the second task, Dumbledore had to talk to the Mer-chief to confirm what happened- so obviously nobody could see what was happening. And nobody could see Moody running around casting unforgivables inside the maze in the final task. So... yeah. Fun tournament. I hope mine's been a little more interesting.

- Regarding the canon tournament even more: Why did Harry even have to try? He said he didn't want to be a part of the tournament, he didn't put his name in, he didn't want the attention, he didn't want to risk his life, blah blah blah... and then he still goes out there and tries his hardest to _win_. Not participate from a safe distance and fail, but actually _win_. Yeah, bullshit, Harry. You totally wanted the fame and glory. On that note, Crouch's plan was completely dependent on Harry not having any regard for his own safety. If I were Harry i would have just walked backwards from the starting line and sat down.


	63. Plotters' Pileup

**Author's Notes:** JKR can make a billion dollars from Harry Potter, and I can make none.

- I actually own one of the first edition Goblet of Fire books where (spoiler alert?) Harry's father pops out of the wand before his mother. Sometimes I like to think this is actually the way it was supposed to be, and Dumbledore was really just making things up.

- I wanted to get this chapter out before the year was up. Looks like I'll make it. Depending on your time zone. Happy New Year!

* * *

**Chapter 63: Plotters' Pileup**

It was hard for Dumbledore to admit, but reviewing his memories of Harry in the pensieve confirmed it. He really didn't understand children. The school year was drawing to a close, and this June would mark the Golden Jubilee of his becoming Headmaster of Hogwarts.

He'd seen so many children go through the halls of Hogwarts, he thought he'd seen it all. He thought he understood children. He thought he could guide them.

He thought he could mold one to his liking.

And now he had to admit that he was wrong. Admitting he had a problem was the first step to fixing it, after all.

The Dursleys left Harry weak, powerless, and uninformed. _The Dark Lord's equal_… unlike Tom Riddle, Harry had no smaller children to pick on in the Dursley household. Nobody to test his mysterious powers on without repercussion. Nobody to tell him he was a celebrity. Harry arrived at Hogwarts; the blank slate he'd envisioned. Better, in fact. The boy practically blamed every accident or misfortune on himself. He wondered how the Dursleys managed to raise him so well, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. This boy would not be the next dark lord.

His first year proved that Harry was the curious sort, not the type to leave a locked door alone. Dumbledore hoped that giving Harry his father's cloak would facilitate his explorations further. And the boy had told the truth about his visions in the mirror- he wanted a family above all else. And just as expected, the perpetually guilt-stricken child took it upon himself to stop Voldemort. The problem was the mysterious power Harry possessed had saved his life. The prophecy couldn't be fulfilled, and Voldemort escaped.

Harry's next year gave Voldemort another chance at Harry's life, courtesy of Lucius Malfoy. There were dozens of technicalities involved, of course, such as the fact that it was merely a _fragment_ of Voldemort, not the Dark Lord himself. And the fragment was from before Tom actually became Voldemort. He let the year play out, but in the end it was Fawkes who made the decision for him. This was not the way to fulfilling the prophecy, and Harry would have to continue living for now.

Then came the year of the ministry's meddling. And Sirius Black. Was that the key to the boy's misguidance? Harry truly had someone to live for. Is that how he learned to become so rebellious _this_ year?

Dumbledore wanted to celebrate his 50th year of heading Britain's finest magical school, but he didn't want a parade in his honour. Instead, he chose to celebrate by reinstating the Triwizard Tournament- it would provide festivities year-round with little attention being drawn to him, or Harry Potter for that matter. He thought he could use it to finally distract the school away from Harry Potter, who suffered from the celebrity spotlight all three years previous.

And then Harry, of all people, managed to be chosen as champion. He didn't want the boy to grow a bigger head like his father. He needed Harry to remain innocent, seeking salvation. Even when he had the attention of the Unspeakables, Harry hadn't come to his headmaster for help.

Harry was in danger of heading into an unpleasant great adventure. Much the same way that Grindelwald or Voldemort had doomed themselves. Dumbledore even had to admit his own younger self had been headed on that path. He took it upon himself to return the boy to innocence before fulfilling the prophecy. Dumbledore had a limited amount of time to fix that before Voldemort struck.

This was giving him a headache. He needed to put it off till later. He popped another lemon drop into his mouth and cast a cheering charm on himself. "Come in, Severus, Alastor."

Snape entered the office, already rolling up his left sleeve. Moody followed immediately behind him, looking irate.

"Here it is. Getting clearer by the day. It courses with power I haven't seen since the height of the war. The Dark Lord must be preparing for something soon." Snape showed the Dark Mark on his arm, which looked as if it were a fresh tattoo he'd received yesterday.

"Well, that explains why Karkaroff skipped town," Moody growled out. "I had my entire team comb through every inch of that ship thinking he'd been kidnapped. Turns out he just packed up and left on his own. So fill me in on the details, boy. What's your old dark lord planning?"

"He is no longer _my_ lord," Snape snapped back.

Moody rapped Snape's arm with his cane. "Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater."

"Come now, Alastor. I can vouch for Severus's change of heart. He is no more a Death Eater than you or I," Dumbledore spoke in a reassuring voice. "However, I do expect that you may be privy to some additional information for us?"

"I still have yet to see him in the flesh," Snape reluctantly answered. "He relates everything to us through the young Barty Crouch and Lucius Malfoy. Lucius has seen better days…"

"Be more specific about what you mean by 'us,' will you?" Moody growled.

"You know exactly who. Every one of the Azkaban escapees from the February breakout were hiding out there," Snape answered. "A few of those who walked away with the 'imperius defense' returned, like Yaxley. Those who didn't, like Karkaroff, were to be hunted down eventually."

"And you think he's planning on making some kind of grand entrance during the Triwizard?" Moody asked. "Any details to help me _do my job_?"

"I don't know any important plans, since everybody knows you vouched for me personally," Snape began, looking at Dumbledore, "I am the least trusted among the Death Eaters. Nobody says a word, but it's clear they'll be preparing for something soon. Unless I delivered Potter's head on a platter, nobody will let me in on the Dark Lord's schemes."

"Voldemort will come for Hary Potter eventually. His knowledge of the prophecy has linked their fates together," Dumbledore sighed. "But it is entirely too soon. Alastor, you will need extra forces to be on guard for Mr. Potter."

"You can take your 'fate' and bugger it to hell," Moody said. "I need to look out for all the champions, not just Potter. But a few extra eyes and ears are always welcome."

"Of course. I wasn't suggesting you abandon your duties to all the champions, only that Harry would be of particular interest to Voldemort."

"If the Dark Lord is planning on striking at the tournament at all. If you want me to provide any kind of reliable information on the Dark Lord's movements, I'll need to convince them that I'm spying on you," Snape added. "What can you provide?"

Dumbledore strode over to the cabinet that contained his pensieve, and pulled out a small vial. "This one contains the _full_ prophecy that linked Voldemort to Harry Potter. The one you delivered that night was incomplete, and lead to his downfall. Tell him you stole it from my office- he may find it very useful indeed."

"Make sure you get details, boy. I'll need plenty. Numbers. Time of attack. Point of entry. Target. Purpose. Everything. If this goes tits-up, you'd better start running," Moody said, his eye never leaving Snape even has he turned and walked out of the room.

* * *

As the final event of the Tournament approached, Harry was focused less on winning, and more on surviving. He and Hermione had retreated to the dank lair of basilisk, because that was the only place where they could discuss their plans in private. To pass the time as they talked, they tidied up the chamber while cutting stones from the cavern walls, laying down a new floor that hid the temporal beacon's runes.

"Do you remember Cedric dying? Because I vaguely recall it happening at the end of the Tournament somehow," Harry said, trying his best to sift through his memories. "Portkey. It involved a portkey."

"That's assuming it's still going to happen," Hermione pointed out. "Barty Crouch is long gone. Last time he killed you… and did something with Viktor Krum's body."

"Yeah, and assaulting Riddle Manor changed a lot. But let's assume Voldy's still going ahead with what he planned last time. What did you see last time?"

"You mean when you died?" Hermione shuddered at the thought, nearly dropping the stone she was levitating. "Don't remind me. Voldemort turned you into an inferi, and attacked the crowds at the final task using Krum's body. It was like the World Cup, but worse, because they were organized."

"Why Krum, though? I know he tried to remake his body using my blood, and Cedric's body that first time." Harry felt like this was trying to recreate a puzzle when he only had five out of a thousand pieces, with no picture to help him.

"Is that it? Krum was the winner of the tournament last time. Cedric was the tournament winner that other time…" Now that she said it out loud, it was obvious. Voldemort had wanted to take the body of the tournament winner. The thought of Voldemort having to settle with Fleur's body in a possible timeline made both of them chuckle uncomfortably. But this time, he was obviously planning something different. "He already has a body now. He took Draco's. Why would he do that instead of waiting like before?"

"Maybe attacking the manor had something to do with it. We must have really sent him back to the drawing board that day. Why did he attack last time?"

"I didn't stick around long enough to see his grand scheme unfold. All I know is that a lot of people were killed that day, and I found out for sure that you had died," Hermione said. "So I came back. She paused for a few moments. But he _did_ come in via portkey- using the Triwizard Cup. That couldn't have been a spur-of-the-moment decision."

"And the time before that, I only escaped because I grabbed the cup before he could stop me," Harry said. "Wait, does that mean I stopped a massacre when I escaped? Maybe he's always been planning on using the Triwizard cup as a portkey."

"It's probably best just to prepare for that scenario," Hermione said. "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, after all."

They made themselves a list of assets. On the equipment list were their gifts from Fleming- the basilisk-hide cloaks and a potion originally intended for the wandless duels. They added their extra wands and their brooms as well.

As far as skills went, they both vowed to practice magical combat intensely over the next month, especially for situations where they'd be outnumbered. The whole world knew about Harry's animagus form now, so he couldn't surprise anyone with it. Hermione's was still an unconfirmed rumour, best left as a last-minute escape plan for her. Few people knew about their ability to apparate, which could mean the difference between life or death. And their legilimency and occlumency had to be in top form should Voldemort appear in-person. Fumation, though, was still too inconsistent and uncontrolled to be used in combat.

In the human resources category, they knew Moody would fight any Death Eater he saw on instinct. Sirius and Remus would probably leap to Harry's rescue the instant he was in danger- much like at the Department of Mysteries. Neville, Luna, and the Weasleys, on the other hand… while raiding the Ministry was a risky adventure, at least their opponents had been civilized. Death Eaters wouldn't think twice about casting gangrenous curses or bone-shattering hexes. They weren't ready for that kind of foe.

The real issue was how to make sure Harry had access to all his goodies in the event of a kidnapping or attack. He still had to participate in the Tournament, which was governed by the Goblet of Fire and the referees. If he tried to sneak any of the extra equipment in, it would only mean his rowan wand would be disabled, and his equipment confiscated. At the same time, if the cup was a portkey again, he couldn't let Fleur or Ivan win, either.

In the end, they decided that their best chance was for Harry to wear an innocuous little item that could tell Hermione exactly where he was, and signal if he was in danger. A pair of galleons linked with a protean charm could keep the two of them in communication, discreetly. Hermione would wait with Sirius, Remus, and possibly a few hitwizards, along with any equipment they prepared beforehand, ready to apparate to Harry at a moment's notice.

Hopefully, they could catch Voldemort off-guard this time.

* * *

"Report." Jupiter sat at his desk, hidden deep within the bowels of the Ministry of Magic building. He didn't get many chances to see sunlight. He opted for a charmed ceiling instead, while reading all his subordinates' reports on the outside world. Today he'd receive Mensa's observations of Harry Potter in the wild.

"The closest that Potter got to Mrs. Longbottom was eighty paces away, but that was only for a brief second. Neither the protective barrier, nor the invisibility cloak should have affected their connection, going by our past experiments. Potter didn't notice her presence at all. Nor did the Longbottom boy, who was sitting in the stadium about sixty rows away."

"Are you sure? The tiara must have had some effect…" Jupiter muttered, flipping through the stack of parchment.

"Yes, sir. There is the chance that Mrs. Longbottom's mind isn't healed enough for the tiara to work, which would be why neither of the boys were receptive," Mensa explained. "May I be frank with you, sir?"

"Speak your mind."

"I still think entrapping Mr. Potter was the wrong choice. If we'd asked him politely…"

"I took note of it in your previous report, Mensa. And that's still just your opinion. From our observations, he clearly has little respect for authority. The Longbottom boy was supposed to be more docile, but recent reports have shown he's grown a rebellious streak. Which he got from Potter. We only got as much data as we did because we cut off Longbottom's communications with Potter. They would have abandoned us even sooner if we hadn't."

"Duly noted, sir."

"Consider Potter a spent resource. How are you going to continue with the project?"

"I recommend some more exposure to Artifact F for the next several weeks. It's the closest thing that can mimic what Potter did. We'll repeat the experiment when Potter's out in public for the Tournament finale. If that still doesn't work, I'll gladly hand the research over to Anima's team. I've also made a funding request for patronus research. It appears the patronuses appear to be a necessary factor. They seem to be capable of much more than dementor repulsion."

Jupiter nodded. "Granted. How about Cronus's request? Did you activate his little device while you were there?"

"Yes. As far as I can tell, it only caused his crossbow bolt to veer slightly off course. It didn't cause a reaction in any of his blood runes." Mensa took a small handheld device out of her pocket and dropped it unceremoniously on Jupiter's desk. "Quite frankly, I didn't expect it to work. It's just a silly trinket that lets off a single burst of magic."

"Cronus has always been a bit of an odd duck, but he always gets results eventually. Probably correcting his own mistakes with time-turners. By the way, he wants to observe Potter next month as well. In person."

"Really? Soterius asked me the same thing- he wants to see Potter 'in his natural habitat,' as he put it. Probably for recruitment. He says the boy's got a lot of potential, especially for a fourteen-year-old. Might make a good assassin with some training."

Jupiter laughed. "We have enough child recruits this past decade, with all the war orphans and all. Tell him to wait in line. Dear Merlin, the entire department seems to be interested in Potter. We've got you, naturally, and Cronus, for whatever reason. The hermits over at the hall of prophecies know he has an active one. Soterius wants to recruit him, and Hestia wants in on your research. With all this attention you'd think he was the next dark lord or something."

"Just don't let any of them sit near me. Put them up in the box seats. Potter was edgy enough when he noticed me during the Trial of Fire," Mensa complained.

"I'll order them to go in plainclothes. You can manage your test subject, the rest will just be observing. Perhaps he could be a subject of study all on his own..."

* * *

Cornelius Fudge looked at the folder in front of him, then to the man across his desk, and back to the folder. "This is highly unusual, Mr. Malfoy. Madam Bones has been a part of the ministry for the better part of a decade longer than Mrs. Umbridge. My succession would naturally go to her first."

"Yes, but far too many people are getting fed up with… shall we say, the recent lapses in performance by the DMLE? First, the entire Sirius Black case nearly destroyed the DMLE's credibility. Now people are suspecting the more recent Azkaban escapees might have been innocent as well. Could you afford to have her run the Ministry the way she's handled the DMLE for the past year?"

Lucius Malfoy always raised good points. He was Fudge's favourite advisor… not to mention he usually had the best dinners to discuss it over. For Malfoy to actually visit him in his office was unusual. Then again, the man was being haunted by the death of his wife; followed by his son being Imperiused to do horrific things. And yet, the man still found time to help him make these hard decisions. He wanted to oblige Malfoy on his tenacity alone, but he still had a few reservations.

"She's the department head for the Control of Magical Creatures. The DCMC head is usually a stepping stone before becoming minister. Most of them come from the DMLE, although I myself was originally part of the DIMC. I can't remember for the life of me the last time someone was promoted from DCMC diretly to Minister."

"The past ministers are unimportant," Malfoy assured him. He walked around the desk to the side of Fudge's chair, obscuring the former ministers' portraits from seeing the desk. "You see how she had to push for the sentient non-human regulations, even when those creatures didn't know what was best for them? How she's expanded the rights for shepherding and forestry? How she's increased the revenues from fairy dust tax from the blanket bogs in the past five years? Really, Cornelius, if this isn't your own day in a nutshell, I wouldn't know who else would be better suited."

"But Amelia…"

"Amelia Bones is used to ordering people around. She barks orders and expects them to be carried out. A minister needs the gentle touch, like yourself. In fact, have you seen Dolores' tea set? I can arrange a meeting for the two of you, if you'd like."

"Oh, I think you've given me quite a convincing argument, Lucius." Fudge signed the parchment in front of him with a flourish. "When will our next meeting be?"

"I've already reserved box seats at the Triwizard Tournament finale. We'll have much more business to discuss then," Malfoy answered. He gave a polite bow and strutted out of the room.

For the first time in years, Fudge was happy to prepare for a trip to Hogwarts. Last year was a mess. As nicely as the dementors behaved, they still couldn't stop sucking the happiness away from the general area. Naturally, that meant everyone the gaolers were protecting was feeling miserable. And he had to visit a school full of miserable people. The whole Sirius Black situation nearly turned his approval ratings around. The children complained all year to their parents, who complained to his office. A criminal escapes under his nose, _twice,_ making the DMLE (and himself, by extension) look like fools. And then all that effort turned out to be for naught when Black comes out as innocent!

And the year before that was the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco. Dumbledore was always a popular figure, and he was a hair's breadth away from putting an order to arrest the headmaster. It was good that only muggleborn were victims, or an unimportant family like the Weasleys. Still, his good advisor Lucius somehow managed to lose a house-elf and got sent to St. Mungo's in the process. Hogwarts was never good news.

And before _that_, there was the death of a teacher. Whenever Hogwarts appeared in the news, it always seemed to be bad news.

But not this time. This time, he'd be heading to Hogwarts to congratulate the Triwizard champion- who, by everyone's best guess, would be none other than Harry Potter. And then he could collect that damn hundred-galleon bet from Bagman. He'd get Potter to say a few choice words and take pictures with them shaking hands. It would be grand. He would be the Minister for Magic that was running the country when the first Triwizard winner in over two hundred years happens to be British.

It would be a good day indeed.

* * *

"Well, well. Look who we have here." Two men shoved a bound and gagged Karkaroff down to the ground in front of Harry. _Wait, I was having such a nice dream about Hermione's fantastic… Damnit, Voldemort. Now you've done it. _Harry thought. He continued to watch through Voldemort's eyes. "We found him in Slovenia, trying to make his way back to Durmstrang. What do you want to do with him?"

Hatred and betrayal. Those were the overriding emotions flooding Voldemort's mind right now. One of Karkaroff's captors stepped forward. "If I may be so bold, m'lord, 'e's the one who testified against me and sent me to Azkaban."

Voldemort raised a hand to silence him. "What have you to say for yourself? Would you like to join my ranks once more?" he hissed out. Harry knew he'd already decided the man's fate, regardless of what Karkaroff said.

"Please! I can still be of use to you! I… I could provide Durmstrang as a staging ground, section off several levels of the fortress for the Death Eaters! Spare me! I still have much to offer!"

"I could take the entire fortress on my own, should I choose to," Voldemort sneered. "As useless as ever." He waved away the Death Eaters. When the room was clear, he levitated and banished Karkaroff into an adjoining room. The man slammed into the wall and crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap, beside a ritual circle. He was making _another_ horcrux? It was centered on an old, partially rusted piece of armor, but studded with a few rubies. Most of its gems appeared to have been pried off over the ages, but it still bore a resemblance to the Sword of Gryffindor. This could very well be the remains of his armour- rather fitting that Voldemort would choose it for his next horcrux.

Voldemort laughed as he cast the killing curse, watching Karkaroff slump to the ground. Harry could feel the tearing at Voldemort's soul, but it wasn't as strong as it usually was. He'd also normally wake up by now, but he didn't. Fear, worry, and a touch of confusion came flooding in from Voldemort. He stared at the piece of armour. It definitely wasn't a horcrux. His soul hadn't been properly split. He carefully scanned the ritual circle, carefully running through the layout and inscription of every rune. Harry learned more about horcruxes in the next five minutes than he ever thought he would in a lifetime.

Voldemort learned the diary was destroyed from Malfoy. He assumed the cup may have been destroyed by the Ministry when it was captured, but allowed for some variance in the ritual. Nagini was killed. The locket, the ring, and the tiara were still safe. The circle was perfectly set up for splitting from four to five… unless… He recoiled in horror. No, nobody could possibly know about the locket. The ring didn't even look exceptional, most thieves would pass it by even if they hadn't been killed by all the traps. But the tiara…

He stormed back out to the main hall where many Death Eaters were waiting. "Bring me Snape!"

Snape groveled at Voldemort's feet. "Sir… sir, I have found useful information for you. I stole this from Dumbledore's office… it is the complete prophecy that you desire. My only wish is to continue serving you, as your loyal spy under Dumbledore's nose."

"You have one chance to prove your worth. Return to Hogwarts and search for the diadem of Ravenclaw, in a hidden room on the seventh floor. You have two days. Go." Snape scurried out of sight and apparated away as quickly as he could.

Voldemort looked at the vial carefully. He'd study it later. For now, he had a horcrux to finish. Nothing a little extra murder couldn't accomplish. "Bring me the next prisoner," he ordered.

Harry couldn't recognize the man, and Voldemort didn't even give the prisoner a chance to speak. In the ritual room, Voldemort drank a potion- and Harry felt the connection between them weaken slightly. With the casting of the killing curse, Harry thought he'd wake up once and for all.

No such luck. Everything went black, but he still wasn't in control of his own body. His vision turned groggy, and he noted he was in a completely different room. A familiar room. Someone was standing over him, wearing a mask- and it wasn't a Death Eater mask.

"That was the best reaction we've had so far! Even better than anything Potter achieved! Do you think it's affected by the solstices?" one Unspeakable asked another.

"I don't know, but her mind's being flooded right now. We'll need to sedate her or else her brain's going to fry. Time to sleep, Alice."

Harry gasped and woke up, back in his own bed at Hogwarts. He needed to meditate and memorize as much of that as he could.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I decided to explore a little deeper into all the little plot threads i created over the last cycle, and really wondered how they'd all crash into each other. Dumbledore's mind is sometimes the hardest for me to write for, because his perspective of the world is... well, a little off-kilter compared to most of the other characters. But I find him interesting.

- So, in canon, how did Harry actually become a horcrux? First, we know that his "protection" must have activated before Voldemort died (in order to actually reflect the killing curse). Secondly, that protection is inherently harmful to Voldemort, demonstrated by **burning** Quirrel to death by touch. So... how did a piece of Voldemort manage to latch on to baby Harry, who had this powerful ancient protection?


	64. The Grand Task

**Author's Notes:** if JKR took all the money I make from this fic, she'd get zero dollars.

- Random thoughts on Myrtle: is she a poltergeist instead of a ghost? As far as I can tell, ghosts in canon generally can't affect anything physical. they just float around. Myrtle can make toilets flood and splash around a bit. Peeves is the only ghost-like spirit thing that can mess with physical objects.

* * *

**Chapter 64: The Grand Task**

Harry held his arms out to the side as the officials patted him down. "Is this really necessary?" he asked.

"Sure it is," the man replied. "Everyone knows you've got two wands, and that you're an animagus. You cheat your way through this, and you've still got a functional wand. Can't have that." The man worked down to his pockets, and pulled out the charmed galleon. "What's this?"

"Lucky galleon," Harry said, faking his best nonchalant shrug. This was the one item he and Hermione decided they would risk having on his person, and the charms were (hopefully) subtle enough to hide. They could use it to signal each other in an emergency.

"_Just a galleon_? Most people would rather carry a lucky Knut," he said, flipping it in his fingers. "You just happen to have a bunch of spare galleons lying around?"

"Do you even know who you're talking to?" Harry crossed his arms and channeled his best Malfoy impression.

"Right. Sorry, Mr. Potter." The man flicked the coin back at Harry, who caught it with ease.

Harry had expected something like this, but not _this_ thorough. It was a good thing that he left his phoenix feather and holly wand with Hermione, then. It also meant he couldn't just turn into an osprey and fly to the finish line, or else they'd disable his only working wand. Fleur probably could have done the same with her veela form – it seems like they created the rule to give Ivan a sporting chance. Speaking of which… "I don't see anyone frisking Fleur. Are you going to do her next?"

Fleur's head turned and shot an angry glare that practically screamed "_don't you dare"_ at both Harry and the male official. The man's eyes glazed over as he wandered into the land of daydreams, until a female coworker smacked him behind his head and said, "Don't even think about it." Harry snickered.

Once the searches were complete, the three champions stepped out to face their final challenge: Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in all of Britain. It was a winner-take-all race to the summit, where the Triwizard Cup was waiting in the middle of ancient magical cairns. It would make a fantastic photo op if Voldemort wasn't planning on dropping in. Of course, a simple footrace wouldn't be challenging or entertaining, so they naturally sprinkled all sorts of magical traps and beasts over the mountainside.

Because it was the final event, the introductions were longer and more dramatic. Harry could see the stands had entire sections for each country's minister and their entourage. This was apparently a bigger event than Harry thought. He always thought of the tournament as a school competition- an international one, naturally, but still nothing that warranted the ministers' attendance. Perhaps without an equivalent Wizarding Olympics, the Triwizard was the best sporting entertainment there was to offer after the Quidditch season was over.

As Bagman droned on and on to the crowds, Harry studied his surroundings. They were still standing at lake that Harry couldn't remember the name of. The actual summit was over 10km away, and that wasn't counting the vertical distance he'd have to climb. Hermione described it as less than a half marathon, not that either of them had actually run a marathon in their lives. There were several other mountainous peaks in the general direction, and the route towards the mountain followed a winding river. He quietly cast a _point me_ spell to make sure he had his bearings before the race started.

Above the stadium, both Moody's security guards and aurors patrolled the skies on their brooms. Harry spotted several more of them hovering over the path all the way leading up to the mountain. On the ground, each of the country's ministers had their own private entourage of their bodyguards or aurors. Moody had really beefed up security for the day.

In front of each champion was the golden egg they fetched from each of the elemental trials. All of them were missing the egg from the Trial of Fire, and Ivan didn't have anything to show for his Trial of Earth. Each egg stood on a small podium of sorts. Just as Harry began to wonder what the eggs were for, Bagman finished talking at the inattentive audience. He stepped down from the stage and began explaining to both the audience and the champions.

"Throughout this past year, our champions have competed against each other in many trials. In four of these trials, they had to retrieve a golden egg. Each of these eggs will provide them with a tool to aid their ascent to the summit!"

Bagman walked across in front of them, tapping the leftmost egg for each champion with his wand. The podiums they stood on creaked open to reveal a normal-looking broom, with a small shoulder strap attached. Bagman motioned for each of the champions to pull them out.

"These brooms have been specially made for us by the Nimbus Broom Company, and will fly for only a certain amount of time after their first mounting! Harry Potter, who scored ninety-five points in the Trial of Air, will get to fly his broom for ninety-five seconds! Ivan Kolov will be able to use his for sixty, and Fleur Delacour will fly for thirty-five. Each of these brooms will handle much like a Nimbus 1500 series." Harry slung the broom over his shoulder. If he recalled correctly, the Nimbus 1500's were significantly slower than the 2000 he received in first year, although it _was_ a very good broom for its era. He wouldn't be pulling very many stunts with it, though.

Bagman repeated the motion with the next set of eggs, which revealed a small bracelet in each. "From the Trial of Water, we have a protective bracelet for each champion. It produces a magical fog that only the champion can see through. Let me tell you, some of these critters we've put on the mountain are better to sneak past instead of fight head-on. Again, each bracelet is good for one use only, and the length of time is equal to their score in the Trial of Water!" Harry put the bracelet on his right arm and noted the piece of parchment inside the cabinet. It told him how to activate it: he only had to run his wand down the markings in the band. Simple enough, and he'd get ninety-nine seconds of pseudo-invisibilty. _Thanks, Hermione!_ he thought.

"The egg from the Trial of Earth, which only two of our champions received, will reveal a very special gift from the famous Mr. Ollivander Wand Shop and Mr. Telamon's Treasure House," Bagman shouted out as the third set of podiums opened. Harry almost thought it were empty if it weren't for a green sparkle that caught his eye. Inside was a small, green object, smaller than a snitch. He turned it over in his hands. Upon closer inspection, it seemed to be a brightly shining emerald wrapped in very tiny and soft vines. The patterns it made over the jewel looked strangely familiar to Harry. The plant itself was clearly alive and moving at one end. Deeper in the cabinet lay a wizarding photograph. It showed Ollivander holding the little jewel with the moving end to the base of a wand. The little vines immediately latched on to the wand's wood and grew along the handle. Ollivander removed the jewel with a small twist. The picture then repeated itself.

At least the instructions were simple. Harry still wondered what it did. Bagman was going on with a fairly long endorsement of Ollivander and Telamon's businesses. "…research in replicating the Elder Wand of lore has led to this. Although it can only be used once, when attached to a wand it will multiply the power of a single spell by a significant factor. Since Mr. Potter and Ms. Delacour had similar scores in the Trial of Earth, I've been told the two jewels will have similar effects for both of them." Harry realized that this was essentially similar to his home-made caster glove he used in the wandless duels. He just didn't realize they could be used to boost a spell's strength. He scanned the patterning of the vines again, and realized they formed runic scripts. He'd have to study this in great detail later.

"Finally, I've been told that… although none of our champions managed to retrieve an egg in the Trial of Fire, they all still receive the fourth prize!" Bagman excitedly opened up the final podium. It was a deep green dragonhide belt. Relatively stylish, Harry had to admit. He could see himself wearing it for casual occasions too.

"This prize is… a dragonhide belt, courtesy of the Welsh Dragon Reserves! There aren't any special charms on it other than the standard fitting charm. If any of you had managed to successfully complete the Trial of Fire, it _would_ have created a protective flame shield around you for a short time. But at least you received a fine clothing accessory." Bagman shrugged. "On with the show!"

He now ushered all three champions to the starting line. "With a seventeen-point lead over second place, Harry Potter gets to start the race first! Ivan Kolov will begin one hundred and seventy seconds afterwards, and Fleur Delacour will follow four hundred and twenty seconds after that! Champions, are you ready?"

Finally. Harry wondered if he could get through the entire course without using his prizes. Each of them could be as useful as anything he and Hermione had already prepared to fight against a possible attack from Voldemort. Still, that meant putting himself at another handicap, and he only had a roughly three-minute lead over Ivan. _Should have been a ten-minute lead at least, _Harry thought bitterly. _Stupid Unspeakables_. He noted that a masked Unspeakable was sitting behind Cornelius Fudge. Probably the same one he saw at the Trial of Fire. Ugh. _At least I'll be miles away from them with this event,_ Harry reminded himself.

* * *

Ten minutes of hard jogging after the race had started, and Harry still had yet to encounter anything other than rocks. This had to be the most boring grand finale of any event he'd ever seen. He technically hadn't even reached the base of the mountain yet. Even while keeping a strider spell on his legs constantly, t would probably take two hours or so to make it up to the top if the obstacles weren't too difficult.

He glanced backwards. Ivan was nowhere to be seen. He knew the boy shouldn't be too far behind, especially given the physical conditioning that Durmstrang students were known to have. Perhaps he was taking another route? Harry was worried if he was keeping a good pace or not. Fleur would have just left the starting line about now.

Finally, after a few more minutes of jogging, he heard footsteps behind him. They were heading straight for him, and sounded pretty heavy. He turned around to see a mountain troll heading towards him, with a tree trunk in hand as a club. If the wind had been blowing the other way, Harry would have smelled him ages ago. It had probably smelled Harry instead and thought of a tasty meal.

Well, he certainly wasn't going to jump on its back and stick his wand up its nose this time. He cast a series of blinding spells, all aimed at the troll's eyes. Thankfully, one of them struck its mark, causing the troll to charge past Harry as it swung its club around wildly. Harry ducked behind a ridge and let the troll continue to thrash about, causing some indiscriminate destruction. "_Volanium Leviosa,_" he cast at a hefty stone nearby. He manoeuvred the levitated stone in a wide arc to the opposite side of the troll, and then sent it flying into the troll's head. Naturally, the blinded troll ran in the direction the rock had come from, away from Harry.

He decided to leave it be as it thundered off into the distance, and then continued onwards towards the mountain until the path he was taking disappeared into the foliage. Before stepping through, Harry looked carefully at the plants. They seemed a little too conveniently overgrown. He recognized the shape of the leaves. Venomous tentacula. Nothing a few cutting charms couldn't fix. He marched ahead, wielding his wand like a machete as he slashed out cutting charms left and right. The plant's vines recoiled with every cut, creating a wider path for him to avoid the poisonous barbs.

A few minutes later, he spied a small herd of hippogriffs resting under the trees. He wondered if this was their natural environment or if they were place there as an obstacle. He sniggered at what could be the easiest possible "obstacle" in this course when a thought suddenly crossed his mind. It might be a little risky, but he wanted to try it.

He turned around and approached a hippogriff that was still awake, scratching itself as the rest of the herd napped. He concentrated on keeping his chin up, chest puffed, and purposefully made some noise as he approached. The hippogriff stared him down as he approached. He stared right back and continued to boldly step forward until the Hippogriff stood up and faced him head-on. He continued to look at it straight in the eyes. His eyes were watering. The wind wasn't doing him any favours. He was just about to give up and make a run for it when the beast bowed broke eye contact and bowed its head low. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

He approached it cautiously. When it made no threatening moves when he was within clawing range, he relaxed a little and said, "You're quite beautiful, you know. Would you like me to scratch here?" He put his hands on the spot it was originally scratching. It let out a throaty caw, similar to a crow but several octaves deeper, and pushed its body against Harry. "I'll take that as a yes."

As Harry was scratching it, he asked, "Could you fly me up to the top of the mountain? I could make it worth your while," remembering to stay as polite as possible. It cawed again, and began to flap its wings before Harry had managed to climb on. Together, they rose up high into the air. This was definitely better than jogging. The hippogriff flew unimpeded- it seemed the organizers thought they banned all methods of flight except for their broom. Seems like they missed one.

Harry took the time to scout out his surroundings, to see if he could spot his competitors. There was some rising smoke and fire ahead of him. The hippogriff turned to avoid the smoke, but it kept close enough for Harry to see what was going on. He could see a very large creature hopping around, emitting bright flashes of light. Must have been Hagrid's blast-ended skrewt. On the ground, Ivan was getting quite a workout, too focused on his armoured foe to realize Harry had just passed overhead.

The skrewt's extremely thick shell, heavy weight, and natural inclination towards fire were all working against Ivan's strength. His strongest spells were his suite of fire spells, which only helped make the creature more comfortable in the cold mountain air. His attempts to banish, stun, or levitate it were overcome by sheer mass. Every attempt at escape, even uphill, was countered by a flaming blast of gases expelled from the skrewt's rear, launching it forward like a rocket. Harry hoped Ivan could survive Hagrid's "cute" creation.

He also breathed a sigh of relief as they passed. He'd unknowingly set a slower pace, and Ivan had passed him without notice. If it weren't for the hippogriff and the skrewt, Ivan probably could have beaten him. That didn't matter much any more, though. He still couldn't spot Fleur, but with almost a ten-minute lead over her, she wouldn't have caught up _that_ quickly. He did keep his eye out, just in case that sneaky witch decided to let Ivan clear a path for her and take the lead at the end. It certainly would be her style.

In the middle of casting a wider-range _hominem revelio_ spell, the hippogriff dove down, nearly causing Harry to fall away in the free-fall. It barely stopped above the ground, talons snatching out into empty air. A deer frantically scrambled away. The hippogriff took off again, this time staying low to the ground, chasing after it. Harry sighed. If it was so distracted by food, he'd have to help it catch it before it could take him back up. As they caught up to the deer, he cast a wide-area impediment jinx, tripping the deer. The hippogriff happily swooped down and sank its talons into the deer's body, and snapped its neck with its beak.

Harry dismounted as it started eating- it was a messy eater. It cawed in satisfaction after several bites. He was about to mount the hippogriff again when it took off, carrying the remainder of the carcass back towards its herd. "Hey! Wait!" Harry shouted at it, but it paid no attention to him this time. Well, given the distance they covered, at least he knew the other competitors were far behind him, and he'd saved at least thirty minutes with that flight. He was nearly halfway up the mountain by now. Time to move on under his own power again.

With no real footpaths nearby, he clambered straight up the rocky slopes. He was sure there must have been a trail for hikers, but the hippogriff naturally hadn't gone hunting near that part of the mountain. It most likely had some protective wards to keep magical animals at bay. Although steep, there was very little tall vegetation, which at least let Harry see where he as going. He could spot things like the patch of devil's snare easily, which stood out like a sore thumb.

It didn't help him avoid the invisible obstacles, though. He felt an indistinct wave of magic as he triggered a trap. He instinctively dove to the ground and cast a shield charm. No spell nor object came at him, so he relaxed. He knew the trap must have done _something_, though. He knew there was no sense in staying still and waiting to get caught, so he continued up the hill- and immediately fell over.

He eventually stopped his tumble and looked up to see how much he'd fallen- and realized he seemed to have fallen uphill. _That's not right,_ he realized. He cautiously tried to step forward again, and fell over once more, sliding uphill even further. He lay on the side of the mountain and a few basic healing spells, being wary that sitting up might cause him to fall over once more. _Ok, either that trap reversed gravity over the mountain, or my senses are messed up,_ he thought. He decided to go with the latter conclusion.

"_Finite_," he incanted on himself. He didn't feel much different. He picked up a pebble and tossed it straight up. It looked like it was still rolling "uphill." He looked at the sky, and at the ground below. He couldn't quite tell why, but when he concentrated they both looked _wrong_. Each one was a little bit like… a painting. And it wasn't as cloudy as it had only five minutes ago. He decided to do a short meditation, using his occlumency to organize his senses. _Breeze on my skin- that's real. Smells like a mountain. Vision- I'm definitely seeing what's coming through my eyes. Hearing- it's a little too silent. Balance… I get the sense that "up" is in two different directions. One's actually…_ he realized what the problem was. Now that was a tricky little ward.

Using his inner ear to guide him while crawling on all fours, he pinpointed it to a small boulder- and now he could see the runes inscribed on it. It was actually downhill from him, but he had to constantly fight against his sense of balance, which told him that direction was up. He scanned the runes, looking for anything especially dangerous. Nothing- just a sensory charm and a projected illusion. He blasted the rock apart with a reductor curse. The sky and the ground swapped places and it was suddenly very easy to walk again.

Harry continued to climb, all the more wary of magical traps now. He still hadn't encountered Fleur, but at least he knew Ivan was still behind him. He was already taking the most direct route to the summit, assuming it would be the fastest. He'd made a mistake with Ivan, and he couldn't risk it with Fleur. Ninety-five seconds of flying on a Nimbus 1500 would probably get him to the summit, or close enough to win. He was at the point where the mountain became really steep, so using the broom here would give him the greatest advantage.

He pulled the broom off his shoulder strap and rocketed up the mountain at full speed. He passed by a flock of thestrals- potentially dangerous for someone who hadn't witnessed death before, but easy to dodge when he could see them. There were very few remaining traps or obstacles in the air. Thirty seconds to go, and he could see the shimmering of the cup at the top. It was sitting in the center of three cairns, untouched. Good. Twenty seconds. Almost there.

With ten seconds left of flight on the broomstick, he landed right beside the cup. The moment his feet touched the ground, all three cairns began to move. The stacks of rocks crumbled to the ground, only to rise up again in a humanoid shape. Three small golems, the final objects protecting the cup.

Compared to the huge granite golems for the previous version of the Trial of Earth, these were nothing. A combination of softening, blasting, and banishing charms made quick work of each golem, sending chunks of softened rock flying away. Dodging their attacks was barely any harder than the daily practice between Hermione and himself. _Mollira, Reducto, Depulso_. Rinse and repeat. Pretty soon all three golems were a pile of rubble, and Harry was ready to take the cup.

He walked up to the Triwizard Cup and cast a few diagnostic charms on it. Check, it was a portkey. He didn't want to touch it just yet. This was where the _real_ task began. Bracelet, check. Galleon, check. Ollivander's thingy- check. Stylish belt- why not. The broom could have been useful too, but it wasn't particularly fast. He could probably fly faster if he transformed himself. He made sure to cast healing spells on every bruise and cut on his body- didn't want any handicaps before he started. He cast a few protective spells on his clothing- enchanting every piece of his clothing with a light _Protego_ charm, much like the twins had done before. He added a supersensory charm on his eyes and ears, and the _Corpus Pankrator_ for the rest of his body. It was one of the less-used spells in the wizarding world, but people like Moody weren't above punching someone to finish a fight. Neither was Harry. Finally, he topped it all off with a disillusionment charm.

Just as he finished, Fleur shot into view on her broom. Looks like she passed Ivan after all. She looked deliriously happy that the summit seemed to be empty. Well, it was now or never. He pulled out Ollivander's little wand attachment and stuck it to his wand and reached for the Triwizard Cup. He wished he could hang around to see Fleur's face as his fingers grasped the handle, but he had more important things to concentrate on. Like whether he should greet the Death Eaters with an overpowered cyclone charm, or a flame whip…

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- This one's a little shorter than usual. I played around with combining it with last chapter's material, or what I've planned for the next chapter, but i think it works better as a standalone. Sorry for the cliffhanger, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to pump out the next chapter before things get really busy again. Hm...

- Finally managed to finish the tournament! The finale was pretty subdued and closer to canon than some of the other wild ideas i've had for a final event (also ideas which would showcase a school's strength more), but nothing else really allows for the "portkey-at-the-finish-line" kind of sequence of events.

- Regarding canon once more: Even with a year's worth of planning, subtle hints, sabotage, and all that jazz, Harry's kidnapping at the end really just boiled down to Cedric being nice. Cedric got to the cup first while Harry was still trying to get up. The fact that Cedric wasn't stunned or imperiused by an invisible Moody!Crouch when he was in reach of the cup kinda tells me Crouch hadn't caught up to them. So... what if Cedric wasn't so generous? What was plan B? Just grab Harry and kidnap him normally? Why wasn't that Plan A? Why not just do that in September and have a body 9 months earlier?


	65. No Plan Survives Contact With the Enemy

**Author's Notes:** Writing Harry Potter stories for fun and not profit since 2010

- Random thoughts: Why are patronuses good messengers? In canon, there's a lot of problems with them. For one thing, people are only so good at recognizing animals. If two people have german shepard patronuses, would you be able to tell the difference? Especially if they're both coloured silvery-white by necessity? Also, the patronus isn't inherently intelligent. Even a post owl can mostly deliver a note privately. The patronus will just arrive and blurt out the message. Just about anything else is more useful: post owls, Sirius's two-way mirrors, Floo, etc.

- As you're no doubt aware, in this AU, souls and patronuses have a tighter connection than simply preventing a Dementor's Kiss. This is one detail that won't be explained by Harry, because it involves the muggle concept of quantum cryptography. Quantum key encryption essentially allows coded messages between two people, but most importantly, if any eavesdropper tries to intercept the message, both the sender and the recipient will know, AND the message itself can become irretrievable. It is, in theory, one of the most secure methods of sending information. In this AU, patronuses carry an imprint of the soul of the sender, using that as a quantum-key-like encryption scheme. It's this imprint, not the actual animal form the patronus takes, that confirms the identity of the messenger and the integrity of the message. This reason alone would probably be worth the risk of the enemy seeing a glowing silver animal fly by, as well as the time lag between sending/receiving the message.

* * *

**Chapter 65: No Plan Survives Contact With The Enemy**

Portkeys never agreed with Harry. When the spinning sensation subsided, he was on the floor, sprawled out on all fours. At least this time, it worked to his advantage. With his supersensory charm, he clearly saw four Death Eater masks, shiny and polished, hovering over him in the darkness. No time to doubt himself now. No room for hesitation.

He settled on the flame whip.

Time seemed to slow for Harry as he began the wand motions. The Death Eaters seemed bored or inattentive, only one of them registering that the portkey had delivered its prize to them at all. _Lower the wrist, twist the wand_. The Death Eater's wand arm began to rise, tracing out the beginning of stunning hex while his other hand jabbed at his partner. _Retract the hand, flick towards the target_. The Triwizard Cup finally hit the floor, bouncing off with a loud clang. The other masks started turning towards the noise. _Sweep with the arm. Release the whip._

Tendrils of flame snaked through the air, towards the only Death Eater who had his wand drawn. A normal flame whip would have given him severe burns, forced him to drop his wand from the pain. Ollivander's little wand-attachment glowed. The orange flame turned brighter as the whip extended. When it reached the man's arm, it was almost white. Unable to finish his first spell, his wand dropped to the floor - along with everything below the elbow.

The adrenaline surge didn't let Harry comprehend what was really going on. He had four targets, and one spell to take them down. With his free hand on the ground, he whipped his wand around in a full circle as he rose to his knees. The momentum carried him around for a second spin with the whip before the gem sputtered out, and the whip returned to its normal orange colour. Harry finally got onto his feet.

Only when the threat of the Death Eaters was gone did he really take in his location. He was indoors. Everything around him was burning. Maybe a flame whip hadn't been the best choice. He doused the area with a jet of water, until the last of the flames sputtered out. He took in a deep breath of relief, only to smell something between burnt steak and badly-made bacon. His eyes once again adjusted to the darkness.

He'd been prepared to fight Death Eaters. He'd been prepared to fight for his life. He'd even prepared himself for the possibility of dying at the hands of Voldemort, _again_. Nothing got him ready for seeing four Death Eaters lying on the ground in twenty pieces. He gasped. The sudden intake of breath brought the smell of burnt flesh into his nostrils again, and he gagged. He staggered as far away as he could from the bodies and almost threw up. Good thing his stomach was already empty.

_Maybe a flame whip __**wasn't**__ the best choice,_ he thought to himself. Maybe an area-wide stunner could have done the job.

_And maybe a group hug would have made them drop their wands and kiss your arse, Potter! _a voice that sounded a lot like Moody echoed in his head. Right. He was in the middle of enemy territory, he had to remind himself. People woke up from stunners unpredictably. One person who was awake was as good as everyone he'd stunned being awake. He had no backup until he could get out of there. Every enemy down had to be down for the count, guaranteed.

It still didn't help him enjoy the sight of cauterized stumps scattered about the room. He needed help, and he had to get his bearings. He activated the galleon in his pocket, hoping that the others would find him soon, wherever he was. _"Ubisumus_," he whispered. A jumble of letters formed in front of him, taking unusually long to form a word. It settled on "Buckingham Palace." _Yeah, right, and I'm the Queen herself_. He cast the spell again. This time it said, "Mount Everest." He tried a different spell. "Point me," he whispered. His wand spun round and round on his palm. Well, at least he knew backup wouldn't be coming soon, with these wards in place. He needed to find a way out of the building.

He looked back at the fallen Triwizard Cup. It could have been a two-way portkey. He walked over and grasped it firmly. Nothing happened. Clearly, escaping Voldemort's clutches would require a little more effort than that. The only way out of the room now seemed to be the door.

He re-cast his disillusionment charm and quietly crept up to the door. He heard voices coming from the other side. "Didn't you hear over the Wireless? The tournament's been won. Even heard a bit of a struggle. Why the hell are those lazy arseholes taking their time? They better not be havin' fun with the body, especially if it's that French bird that won…"

Harry steeled his nerves. _Make sure to take them down without letting them get back up_, he reminded himself. The doorknob turned, and two more men stepped through. One wasn't wearing his mask, but Harry didn't recognize him. "Gwydion's balls, what happened here?" The two of them rushed to the center of the room, wands out.

Harry let out silent bludgeoning spells, knocking both of them off their feet. He followed up with a pair of stunners. _Damnit, Potter, this isn't SNAPE Society practice any more!_ he reminded himself. One of them was already groaning. Oh, bollocks. He had to step gingerly through the pile of body parts he'd created, and felt the urge to vomit again. _Ugh. No. I'm not doing THAT again._ He settled for silencing spells, and bone-shattering spells on their arms- these couldn't be healed with a simple _episky_. The sickening crunch of three bones splintering into hundreds was the only noise that could be heard. The pain was enough to wake the Death Eaters through the stunners, but the silencing spells did their job. When he was done with them, he had to stun them again.

He summoned all the wands off the floor and turned them to sawdust. He looked back at the bodies on the floor. He picked up one of the Death Eater masks and stripped another of his cloak. Might as well hide in plain sight. Blending in with the enemy using a notice-me-not charm was much less draining than keeping up a disillusionment.

He finally stepped out of the room, and cast a locking charm just to be safe. It might buy him a few extra seconds at best before someone else found the bodies, but those extra seconds could save him. The hallway was narrow, and there were no windows. He crept down the hallway, silently peeking in each room. No windows in any of them, either. They were filled mostly with junk, old furniture collecting dust. The last one contained bones. Human bones, most likely used in Voldemort's rituals. Harry shuddered. He didn't feel quite as bad for chopping a few Death Eaters to pieces now.

"What the hell are Macnair and Rowle doing? They were supposed to check up on the Carrows. Oi! Macnair! What's taking so long? Crouch is waiting!" Harry heard a voice coming from upstairs. There was only the single hallway, no corners to duck behind. He had to duck into the room with the human remains.

The footsteps of two more Death Eaters passed by. Harry heard them trying the lock. He cracked the door open, just wide enough to sneak his wand through. Two silent stunners and his targets fell, never seeing their assailant. A little work with _Levicorpus_ and he piled the next two into the room, taking their wands and shattering their arms just like the others.

Eight Death Eaters in one go. Not a bad start.

* * *

"Where did Harry go? This is really happening, isn't it?" Sirius was almost panicking, turning to Remus, and then to Hermione. The crowd had cheered when Harry defeated the last golem protecting the Triwizard cup. The cheers turned to murmurs as Harry had spent several minutes casting spells all over the cup and himself, only to cheer wildly when he disappeared along with the cup. They all assumed Harry knew of something they didn't, and that it was all part of the event. Hermione, Sirius, and Remus knew better.

"Calm down, Sirius. You were never this worried, even when you and James faced Voldemort," Remus said.

"This is Harry we're talking about! Not James! He's my godson! He's just a fourth year! And we had backup! Merlin's blasted ballsack, why did we let him do this…" Sirius buried his face into his hands.

"Come on, let's get out of here and meet the hitwizards. Harry should be signalling with his location any second now," Hermione said. She pulled out her charmed galleon and stared at the unchanging letters. _Hurry up, Harry. Don't you dare try to do this alone…_

"So, are we going to see some action or what?" It was had to believe the blonde American man, busy slicking back his hair, was actually a mercenary. Still, the rest of his team looked the part.

"Any second now," Hermione said, still staring at her coin. She was really starting to worry. It had been almost ten minutes since Harry had disappeared- if he had to do a little fighting on arrival, he would have finished by now. _Please don't be dead, Harry. Don't do this to me again._ Images of Harry's corpse, reanimated as an inferius and leading Voldemort's charge crept into the back of her mind. _No. Not this time. It won't happen._

"Just be patient, boys," their gruff commander said. He took another puff of his cigar. "Something's bound to happen sooner or later." As if on cue, sounds of screams of terror erupted from the stadium.

"Is this the signal, boss?" The small, jittery one with the broom looked pretty excited to see some action. The others started cracking their knuckles.

"I don't know. Is it?" The leader looked over to Sirius.

"Let's go back to the box. We can see what's happening from there."

The seven of them apparated back to the box seats Sirius had bought for them. Down below, it was chaos. Spellfire was flying everywhere. Moody and his security team was having a hard time containing everything, but Hermione could see more security personnel out over the racecourse were rushing back towards the stadium. A lot of the action seemed to be taking place near the judges' tables, but smoke was rising from another box as well. Several of the observational orbs had been shattered, leaving little information about Ivan and Fleur's condition.

"So… do we help 'em out?"

"Of course!" Remus answered immediately.

"No," Sirius countered.

His old friend quirked an eyebrow at him. "Sirius? What's the matter? This isn't like you."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't care about being the hero any more, Remus. I tried that last time and ended up failing Lily and James. I hired these men to save Harry, and that's what they're going to do. The instant Hermione knows where Harry is, these men will be there, kicking Voldemort's rotten arse."

"Hermione? What do you think?" Remus asked. His eyes still darted out towards the crowds occasionally. Clearly, there were going to be a few casualties whether they intervened or not.

Hermione was conflicted. She knew Harry - he wouldn't have approved of standing idly by while all those innocent spectators were being attacked. But she still wanted Harry to be safe, most of all. It was selfish, she knew. Part of her was agreeing with Sirius. The other part was wondering if Harry would forgive her if she sided with him.

"There's a pretty simple solution to this, you know," the blond pretty-boy said. "We're always in constant communication with each other." He tapped a small, flesh-coloured earring he was wearing. Only then did they notice all the others were wearing the same things. "I'll stay with you three. If anything happens, I call all of us back and we go get Harry. Won't take more than a second to regroup."

"You just don't want to ruin your haircut, huh? Lazy ass." The attention-deficient flyer was already hopping on his broom, being restrained only by their leader.

"Shut up, Ace. I'll be _protecting the clients_. Well?"

Hermione and Sirius nodded at each other. Remus breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

"Severus, what is the meaning of this?" As the first spells flew, Dumbledore rose to cast a shield over himself and Madam Maxime, as well as the assistant headmaster from Durmstrang filling in for Karkaroff. Even Severus would cast a few spells against him to keep up appearances. It was all part of the plan, so that nobody had to get hurt.

He didn't count on Severus dodging his spells and casting dark cutting charms or hexes, completely indifferent towards the bystanders caught in the crossfire.

"An oath. For failing the Dark Lord," was Snape's reply. He pressed on in his attack, knowing he'd force Dumbledore's hand soon. He'd spent an entire day combing through Hogwarts, asking everyone from Flitwick to the Grey Lady about the whereabouts of the Ravenclaw's Diadem. As far as he knew, it didn't even exist within the castle. The Dark Lord probably knew he was truly Dumbledore's spy, and sent him on this impossible mission.

"Severus, please…" Dumbledore knew that Voldemort didn't make light demands when forcing his followers into oaths, but if only he could stun his potions professor, that could buy some time to figure out a loophole.

Snape suddenly crumpled to the ground as if struck by a falling anvil. The stadium's seats began to morph into tigers, which looked like they were transfigured with very empty stomachs.

Dumbledore had been so focused on trying to save Snape that he didn't even notice the ten-foot-tall giantess get to her feet. One of the Beauxbatons students had been caught in the crossfire. She wasn't going to show Snape any mercy now.

* * *

Moody, meanwhile, was struggling to get the chaos under control. _Damn that Snape_, he thought. _Unreliable tosser. _He'd been told that the first attacks would happen at least one hour after the end of the race. Thought they'd be portkeying in. Nobody said anything about portkeys going _out_. Now one of his champions could be anywhere in the world and half his team couldn't keep up at the stadium, despite having triple the security staff.

His magical eye spun and drew his attention to one particularly powerful battle. _Oh, it looks like Albus is stepping up. Heh, and so has the French headmistress. Big girl can throw big spells. Can't believe Albus would go that far to protect his pet Death Eater_. He turned to see a large group of people casting basic spells at one of the boxes. _That's the minister's box!_

He kicked his broom into high gear, ready to send the assailants flying. Several of them turned around to face him when he noticed their glossed-over look. Women and several students were part of the group. They'd been imperiused. _Bollocks_. As he stunned the last civilian, his magical eye brought him to the attention of the Bulgarian and French VIP boxes. More imperiused civilians. This was just far too many to handle at once.

"I want team Mandrake to guard Kolov. Two on the ground and three in the air. Team Dittany on Delacour. Team Ginger, investigate the American mercenaries in the south box. All others, return to stadium."

* * *

"What are they doing? Who are these people?" Cornelius Fudge was panicking. Were they from the bookies? He'd bet a thousand galleons on Potter, and the boy had clearly won. Maybe they didn't want to pay up. Or maybe it was just the French being sore losers. "Lucius, what's going on?"

Malfoy didn't answer. He seemed to be unusually quiet all day, in fact. Even as the stadium was burning, he had an indifferent look on his face.

"Sir, we should apparate to evacuation point E," one of his aurors whispered. They tried. They failed. None of them had noticed the anti-apparition wards going up.

"Lucius! What are you doing? This is clearly an attack against me! What should we do?" Fudge screamed in confusion. That man wouldn't know which direction to wipe his arse if Lucius didn't tell him.

Malfoy only turned to look at Fudge, with an oddly serene expression. "I have nothing left," he proclaimed. With one quick sweep of his wand, Fudge's head was separated from his body. Malfoy turned his wand on himself before the aurors could stop him.

* * *

"Mum?" Neville stood up, staring blankly at the woman who had just blown up the French minister and his entire entourage with a single spell. Now she was doing battle with five Unspeakables at once, and holding her own. He pushed his way through the crowd. There was no mistaking it. This was the same woman he'd been visiting week after week for months; the one he tried to break out of the Department of Mysteries along with Harry Potter.

They said she'd been showing improvement. Standing up and casting spells on her own was certainly improvement. Going berserk and murdering others was arguably not. "Mum! Alice! What are you doing?" he yelled as he finally broke past the others.

"Ah. Neville," Mensa greeted the boy as if it were a routine visit for another patronus-therapy session. "Didn't want to tell you, but your mum showed a massive improvement a few days ago. Suddenly started walking, talking, smiling, the complete set. Thought we'd bring her here today to surprise you." She turned to conjure a wall of stone, blocking another one of Alice's deadly spells, and then back to Neville as if the interruption was perfectly normal. "We weren't expecting quite the surprise, though."

"What have you done to her?" Neville screamed.

"Healed her, as far as we can tell. Nobody's ever come back from extended Cruciatus exposure this well. This could just be one of the truly incurable effects of the Cruciatus, though. We might consider this treatment for your father if we had any guarantees that the recovery wouldn't be so… violent."

"Mensa? We could use another hand, here!" another Unspeakable shouted. She turned and started conjuring animated ropes to restrain Alice. None of them appeared to be using lethal spells, although Alice had no qualms using Unforgivables and dark magic in return.

Neville was left staring at the scene. He did the only thing he could – enhanced his voice with a _Sonorus_ and tried to get her attention again. "Oi! Don't you recognize me? It's Neville! Your son!" Neville shouted.

Alice turned to face Neville. For a second, he saw glowing red eyes before she apparated away.

* * *

"_Ubisumus. _Point me_." _Harry's wand was still telling him that he was vacationing in Hawaii and North didn't exist. That meant Hermione still hadn't been able to find him either. He had to let her know, and there was only one reliable way to do it.

He ducked into another empty room and cast silencing charms on the walls. This was one spell he still couldn't perform silently. He focused his mind on a happy memory: spending an entire summer with Hermione, the time when her parents actually got along with him. "_Expecto Patronum!_" He let out the quietest shout he could manage. As the silvery mist poured from his wand, he shifted the memory over to more current events. _I'm all right. Need to escape the building. Unplottable wards_. Harry poured those thoughts into the patronus as it was forming into a small, long-legged owl.

"Go, find Hermione," Harry whispered to his patronus. It flew straight through the wall and disappeared. Hopefully it didn't run into any Death Eaters- but luckily, the entire building seemed to be nearly deserted. Apart from the eight that he'd taken down already, he'd only seen five others. Four were gambling and drinking, while another was asleep. Harry didn't want to try to take them on by himself, so he had slipped by with the notice-me-not charm.

The upper floors of the building had more interesting things, though. After sneaking past the gambling Death Eaters, he entered a room that contained dozens of soft-shelled eggs- with roosters, instead of hens, sitting on top of them. Each of them had a few runes drawn on the eggshell, and runic circles surrounded each "nest." Harry recognized a few of the basic patterns; they provided warmth while forcing change. Voldemort was trying to raise a small army of basilisks. Harry decided to nip that plan in the bud by silencing the roosters and stomping on all the eggs. It was surprisingly therapeutic, especially when a quick _scourgify_ got rid of the mess in an instant.

The next room was full of potions. And better yet, it had signs of Severus Snape's handiwork- like his handwriting on the labels. Harry sprinkled a few potion ingredients randomly into some simmering potions, and then went about vanishing all the completed potions he could find. Except for two bottles: One containing pepper-up potion, which he drank. The other had a silvery substance which he recognized as a memory. He slipped that one into his pocket for later. Really, where was the security in this place? He expected better from his mortal enemy.

He continued on to a furniture-free room. Inscribed on the floor were multiple large ritual rings, and a single object at the center. Jackpot. He'd found Riddle's latest horcrux attempt. The broken piece of armour was made of deep red leather and backed with metal plating. It had clearly been worn and used over the ages; the thing was ancient. It no longer held any functional or decorative value- large chunks of the armour was dented or missing, while large pockmarks were left where gems clearly used to be. Thieves and warriors alike must have taken what they wanted from this armour. Given how Tom Riddle had a tendancy to imbue his soul on beautiful treasures like Hufflepuff's cup, this seemed a little out of place. Harry found the answer when he inspected it more closely- images of lions were embossed on the leather. This was Gryffindor's armour. Since he couldn't get the sword, he had to settle on the poorly preserved armour instead to complete the set.

Without the tools to destroy the armour himself, Harry decided to leave the it where it lay. Even if he had known how to cast Fiendfyre, he _still_ hadn't encountered any doors or windows that led outside. The anti-apparition ward appeared must have been keyed in selectively, because he saw no other way for the Death Eaters to come and go.

There was only one door left, at the very end of the hall. If this didn't lead to a way out, he'd have to start getting loud and destructive. It was locked, and resisted the basic _Alohamora_ charm, but _Aperi Sesama _worked just fine. When he stepped inside, what he saw horrified him to no end.

Draco Malfoy was lying on a table, buck naked. Ok, that wasn't truly what freaked him out. It was the fact that Draco's flesh seemed to be rotting away, while seven gigantic sewing needles impaled his body. One was in each limb, and three were in his torso, pinning him to the table. Harry had seen these before, through one of his visions. Barty Crouch was experimenting with some kind of power-enhancement ritual on Draco's body. One of them had been impressive enough. Seven, and it looked like his body couldn't hold itself together.

Harry had to remind himself that this wasn't Draco any more. Much like Quirrel, he was completely owned by Voldemort. Harry wondered if he could finish what he started last January as he stepped closer. There it was again; the burning sensation. Draco must have already been dying, and if Harry got any closer he could kill him outright like Quirrel had died. Keeping his wand raised with a stunning hex at the tip of his fingers, he reached for Draco's neck with his right hand. He grasped on tight, and let the burning sensation flow through his arm.

Draco woke up. The glowing red eyes with snake-like pupils told Harry everything he needed to know. This wasn't Draco any more. It was Voldemort. He held on fast, snapping off the stunning hex with his other hand. It didn't work at all, but it wasn't necessary. Just like in first year, Draco's flesh was slowly turning to dust. The ashen grey colour continued to spread down his body. Voldemort, or Draco, whoever was in control, didn't appear coherent enough to put up a real struggle. No words escaped his mouth; no attempts to free his arms. Just a lot of snarling and glaring that must have spawned from baser instincts.

The needles started thrumming as they Draco's body weakened. Ethereal threads wove through their eyelets faster and faster as if they were trying to stitch Draco back together. As they did, Harry suddenly felt what could only be described as _insight_. He couldn't describe it as knowledge, as it was too vague, but he suddenly understood exactly the condition the body was in. He understood that Draco had been all but eliminated. He knew that, during their battle in the forest in January, Draco's power was being limited because he still resisted Voldemort. He understood, somehow, that even Voldemort was no longer a resident of the body, either. Remnants of both remained, but it was a puppet at best. The puppet was falling apart.

In its death throes, the needles' thrumming turned into buzz, then to a whine. The intangible threads glowed brighter and brighter, until, as the body died, they flashed out of existence. Harry expected a wraith of Voldemort to escape the body and fly away. Instead, he saw something dark and tattered floating through the air.

It wasn't malicious, Harry knew. That would imply it had intentions. It was not evil. That would imply it had a purpose. And it wasn't his enemy. That would imply it had an identity. It simply seemed… tainted, lost, and broken. Harry didn't approach it. It came to him instead. In the deepest recesses of his memory, he felt like he'd done this before…

* * *

"I seem to be coming here a lot these days," Harry muttered to himself. He was standing in the realm of endless white again. Even Alice Longbottom had been in better shape than the thing in front of him. When her soul was shattered, the pieces still appeared vaguely humanoid in this realm. Now, he was staring at a quivering pile of jelly. A shapeless mound of flesh. He approached cautiously.

"Let's see what you've got here," he said, reaching out to touch it.

"_Come on, then. Attack the snake, you silly rabbit," Tom Riddle sneered. He held out both hands in front of him, forcing his power at the small animal. The snake prepared to strike. The rabbit continued to stare at it, completely ignoring its instincts to flee. Tom put a little more effort, concentrating even harder. He could shape its mind. He knew he could!_

_The rabbit jumped straight into the snake's jaws._

"_Thank you, human," the snake hissed. Tom smiled as it disappeared into the grass._

"Well, it figures you grew up playing with snakes," Harry commented. He noted that Riddle couldn't have been more than eight years old in that memory. He had pretty good control of his magic at a younger age than Harry even realized magic existed. "What else is in here?"

_A teenage Tom Riddle paced back and forth in the Chamber of Secrets. He looked almost the same age as the one that had come out of the diary. He conjured a row of wooden sticks on the floor. Without even speaking an incantation, a stream of fire leapt from his wand, vaguely resembling a snake. It lit the first three sticks on fire immediately, but Riddle focused even harder. The flame stopped spreading. With a flick of his hand, he forced the fire to jump to the next stick. And the next. And the next, exactly when and where he intended. With sweat running down his brow and his wand-arm tensed, he flicked once more. The fire leapt over one wooden stick, leaving it untouched while setting the next one alight. Tom laughed. He had finally mastered Fiendfyre._

Harry couldn't help but gawk. He knew Voldemort was powerful, but mastering Fiendfyre while still in school- well, given most wizards couldn't survive practicing the spell, that told Harry how much more he needed to master his own magic. Oddly enough, though, when he saw the memory it felt much more than simply watching. He felt like he'd incorporated some of Voldemort's own experience into himself. Perhaps this was how he'd originally become a Parselmouth? "Come on, Riddle. Show me the rest of your secrets." He reached for the quivering mass once more.

_Power. Riddle stared at the runes he'd etched into his own body. That was it. He'd completed his first illegal power ritual. He could feel the difference already. He couldn't believe he'd wasted so much time trying the "legal" techniques first- if it wasn't bloody obvious, it was snake oil. Anything that could REALLY improve someone's magical power was outlawed. Blood runes were simple, and they worked. What was the next ritual? Hm. Needed a virgin. Not too hard; he was sure Emily Arnem was head-over-heels for him. She'd drop her knickers at a word. He was still a little doubtful about the ones that required blood to be spilled. Maybe he would draw the line there. Surely the victimless rituals would be enough for him. It wouldn't be worth it to get into that much trouble…_

The rest of the memories were similar. Harry got a very personal look at just how much Tom Riddle did to turn himself into Voldemort. It was amazing how handsome he remained despite all the blood rituals he performed. And it wasn't just magical power, it was magical control. Riddle always practiced his spells even more than Harry had; something that was easier to do because he wasn't trying to help his classmates improve as well. Everything he did, he did for himself; and he did it without fear of being caught since he discovered the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry's voyage into a fragment of Tom Riddle was interrupted by a patronus- one he recognized as himself as an animagus. "_Death Eaters attacking the crowds. Mercenaries are keeping us safe. Watch out for yourself!"_

It was only then that Harry snapped out of his out-of-body experience and realized he really needed to be awake, because he was in the middle of enemy territory.

* * *

"Well, well. You caused us a lot of problems, Potter." Harry woke up to find himself tied to a table. Barty Crouch's scarred face was once again covered with some weird gadget as he peered down on Harry. He wasn't the only one- about ten other Death Eaters surrounded the workbench.

"I say we break his arms. You know, like he did to Rowles and the others."

"You idiot. You're not to touch him, remember? The Dark Lord wants to use his body. You want to explain to him why he's going to wake up with broken arms?"

"Yeah, it's just the Carrows' fault for being so damn weak. The Lord wanted a champion's body, and he got one. I, for one, don't care if the sodding louts are dead. They denied the Dark Lord and walked free for the past decade."

As they continued to bicker, Harry tried to keep his fear under control. Barty was apparently the highest-ranking one here; he seemed to be calling the shots. He was entirely unconcerned with Draco (and apparently Voldemort's) death. One would expect that turning their leader's body to dust would cause a little more disorder in the ranks, but the man seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Almost like Harry's efforts hadn't slowed him down his plans in the slightest.

"Now, you just hang tight there, m'lord. I'll get you moving about on your own in no time." Crouch dropped Gryffindor's armour next to Harry and started sticking regular-sized pins into it. Only then did Harry notice a few of the massive needles that used to be in Draco's body lying next to him. He knew those would be plunged into his chest soon enough. "Now, I know we've talked about this before, and I know you're not very sure about this procedure, but you're in no position to argue right now, are you?" Barty cackled with mad laughter. Was he talking to the armour?

Harry knew he had to get out of here. He didn't have his wand. Damn. He tried turning into Bandanna again, which would have let him easily slip through the ropes. Nope- some kind of charm that prevented animagus transformation here. That was the price for making his animagus form public knowledge. He couldn't think of anything else he could do. It was the simplest and stupidest weakness of his- well, all wizards really. Without a wand, they were as helpless as muggles. Probably worse, since they had no idea how to fend for themselves without a wand. Riddle, at least, could perform a few tricks- fumation being among them. He'd even perfected the art in his later years, allowing him to turn only half his body to smoke, keeping the other half corporeal. He'd used it effectively in the first war, becoming one of very few wizards who could fly without a broom or other device. Harry had to tap into that knowledge now.

Riddle's memories made it so easy. In his lessons with Dumbledore, Harry still had yet to make the mental leap from blurring the borders of his body to outright dissociation. Flux, the first F of Fumation, was one of the hardest steps in the process. Riddle didn't have much of a problem with that; possibly because he viewed even his own body as just another tool to be used. Harry settled deeply into occlumency meditation, filtering out and focusing on Riddle's fumation practice. He played that memory over and over again as Crouch was putting the finishing touches on the horcrux.

Crouch was linking the pins in the armour to the giant needle with the same ethereal thread as he saw last time. Harry tried to fumate out of place. Nope, still too solid. And now the Death Eaters noticed he was trying to escape. "Hey, Barty, I think he just tried to apparate or something. Should we stun him?"

"No. Need him awake for this to work best. Give 'im a Cruciatus if he tries it again. I'll be ready in a minute anyway." A good fifteen second exposure to the torture spell caused Harry to lose focus, but it wasn't completely unbearable. Voldemort was more powerful and had done a lot worse. This was a bit like being stabbed with only twenty hot knives as opposed to a hundred.

When the spell stopped, he focused on his meditation to dull the pain. Focus on fumation. How had Riddle approached the problem? It was his conviction. He believed he was eternal. He had his first horcrux. He was immortal, and a mere hiccup with fumation would be an inconvenience at best. Harry didn't have quite the same thing, but if this didn't work he'd just go back in time and try it again. _Screw this body, I'd rather have it dissolve to nothingness than hand it over to Tommy Riddle,_ Harry firmly made up his mind.

Barty brought the giant needle over him and aimed over his heart. The adrenaline rush of seeing himself about to get stabbed helped Harry let go of any desire to see his body impaled in one piece, and dissolved into a countless haze of particles instead. The plume of smoke surprised all the Death Eaters as it zipped around the room, stopping at the far side where Harry's pockets had been emptied. He managed to reform himself into his own body and scooped up his wand, bracelet, and memory. Some Death Eater must had nicked the galleon.

Spellfire forced him to duck down behind the bench. He put on the bracelet and traced out the pattern with his wand. A thick fog emanated from the bracelet, just as Ludo Bagman had claimed. The mist filled the room in seconds. To Harry, it merely appeared as a light haze, but the Death Eaters were having trouble seeing the tips of their own wands. Harry moved to a different part of the room as they stumbled in their stupor. He now had ninety-nine seconds of an unfair advantage to take them down.

He reached a counter where a lot of Barty's gruesome instruments lay. He immediately banished all the objects remaining on the table at the group of Death Eaters. A lot of it involved knives, needles, scalpels, screws, saws, and the ever-memorable giant needles he was going to be stabbed with. The screams of pain told Harry what he needed to know.

Keeping low, he moved to another part of the room and popped his head out only a second at a time. He used strong disabling charms- heavy bludgeoning spells, aimed for the head, or bone shattering spells at the arms. One by one, the Death Eaters fell, and not all of them by Harry's hand. Some were brash enough to try to curse him through the mist, only to hit their ally with an entrail-expelling curse.

With all the Death Eaters on the ground, Harry summoned all their wands and sliced them to pieces. He blasted open the wall, allowing him to finally see outside. Escape! Before he stepped out, however, he looked at Gryffindor's armour. It was a horcrux, and he needed to destroy it. It had survived being struck by a dozen different spells in the crossfire over the past minute, and it was still in exactly the same condition as it was before. Harry didn't want to carry it with him- the tiara and the diary had strong enough compulsion charms on it; the armour would surely try to kill him too. There was only one thing he could do right now to destroy it.

Fiendfyre.

_Riddle showed me how to do it. I can control it_, Harry told himself. He didn't really believe it. The spell wasn't particularly hard to cast; a moron could have learned it. Controlling it was another matter. Harry stood at the hole he made, ready to flee the second things turned sour.

He focused on the piece of armour and pointed his wand. "_Igni Infernum."_ Flames in the shape of a demonic winged serpent leapt from his wand and consumed the armour quickly. The embers themselves looked like lizards or insects leaping to freedom. Harry kept his wand focused and his hand out. _Just the armour. Eat it up, and then stop. Stop. STOP!_

Harry gritted his teeth as he continued to pour his effort into controlling the flame. The armour was long gone, but the flame continued to burn, trying to leap to another target. Harry was barely keeping it in place. One little ember happily flew from the tabletop to the next table over, immediately igniting the entire thing. Harry could almost see a snarling face in the flames. Bugger. He stepped back, dropping his arms at his side. The fiendfyre immediately spread, igniting everything it touched.

All of it burned. The tables, the walls, the floor. But the fire seemed especially happy when it found the bodies of the Death Eaters. The room was filled with burning flesh. The fiendfyre roasted the Death Eaters down to the bone. The flames curled like a smile. There was one more body to consume.

Harry turned himself into an osprey, flying as fast and as far from the fiendfyre as he could. The smell of burning meat chased Harry until he reached the edge of the anti-apparition wards.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I was actually planning on Harry making it all the way through fifth (seventh) year at Hogwarts this cycle, but after playing out a lot of possibilities, this is pretty much the end result i ended up with each time. Maybe he'll survive for more than a year some time... eventually...

- Disclaimer: I am fully aware that Harry's exploits in this chapter were highly influenced by my stealth playthrough of Deus Ex: HR.

- On another note, Voldemort was woefully vulnerable in canon. No Death Eater backup until AFTER the ritual? Wormtail wasn't a particularly strong wizard. What if Cedric had dodged the initial AK? Well, a few stunners later and Aborted-Fetusmort would have been dropped on the ground, and no more ritual. No Death Eaters to help him. Whoopsies. Even Harry had to be captured alive, and was caught because he was staring at Cedric's body. If he had reached the cup first (ignoring the fact that Cedric DID get there first and let Harry catch up) Harry probably had a decent chance against Wormtail alone. So many points of failure in the canon plan.

- Not that my AU Death Eaters fared much better, but hey, they're putting in some effort.


	66. As The World Burns

**Author's Notes:** JKR owns time-turners, but I've got the Temporal Beacon.

- I always found it a little odd how Hermione's family never received any attention. We never even got her parents' names. But more importantly, she seems awfully ok with spending a lot of time away from them. She's at a boarding school for most of the year, and then some summers she's only with her parents for a week or two before spending the rest with Harry and Ron. I've wanted to explore the idea of Hermione's family being almost as broken and dysfunctional as the Dursleys (which might also explain her near-OCD levels of studying), but not in this story.

* * *

**Chapter 66: As the World Burns**

There wasn't any time for any awards ceremony to end the Tournament. There weren't enough students to see the foreign students off. This year, there was no end-of-year speech in the Great Hall. Dumbledore was spending the last days of June in the Hogwarts infirmary. In the aftermath of the Grand Task, parents were rushing to whisk their children home. Muggleborns suddenly became the majority of the student body for the few remaining days.

Hermione came to the infirmary with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Harry was being treated for minor fiendfyre burns- thankfully, he hadn't been caught on fire himself, but the intense heat had still done a number on his skin, and the smoke on his lungs. "Good thing you're awake. The paper sums up what happened yesterday better than I could."

Harry managed a smile. "Thanks, Hermione. I'm just glad you're safe." He picked up the paper and took a quick glance through the headlines. For once, he wasn't staring at his own face captured from an awkward angle. "Eventful" was hardly an adequate word to describe the day when the kidnapping of Harry Potter couldn't make front-page news.

**Cornelius Fudge Assassinated!**

**French Minister for Magic Slain!**

**Bulgarian Minister for Magic Attacked, Remains in Critical Condition**

**Triwizard Terror! 157 dead, 509 wounded**

**Alice Longbottom: Rise From the Depths of Madness?**

And finally, tucked in somewhere on the fourth page, was a line about him: **Potter Wins Triwizard Champion, Cup Nowhere to be Found.**

"Wow. And here I thought _I_ was the one seeing some action," Harry coughed out. His lungs still hurt from smoke inhalation. He took another sip of potion. Putting the bottle back down, he grasped Hermione's hand. "I'm glad you survived all of that. How's Neville doing?"

Hermione shook her head. "Sent to St. Mungo's. Last I heard his grandmother would be taking him straight home after he recovers."

Harry flipped back a page, to the _Triwizard Terror_ article. He read through it carefully, but no names were mentioned. The article mostly spoke about fear and took generic-sounding quotes from shell-shocked spectators. "Anyone we know?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "Cedric, along with a few other Hufflepuffs in seventh year. The Rennet twins from Ravenclaw. Angelina and Alicia, too. George isn't taking it so well. It's best to leave him alone. There could be more, but I don't know who's gone home and who's… gone…" She pulled Harry's hand closer, hugging it to her face as she lay her head down on Harry's stomach.

_Cedric, huh? And I assumed he'd be okay being out of the tournament completely,_ Harry thought. _And most of them were in SNAPE Society… I can teach them spells, but I don't know how to teach them instinct and courage._

They lay together in silence for a while, trying to wrap their heads around the loss of life that had occurred. The worst cases were sent directly to St. Mungo's. Hogwarts only held the victims with minor injuries, like Harry. Given the kinds of pain Harry could hear from the other beds, he didn't want to think about the ones who were sent to the hospital.

"Should we head back soon, Hermione?" Harry whispered.

There wasn't any way to fix everything that had gone wrong. They couldn't bring back the dead. Even with the participating Death Eaters dead or captured, the Ministry was still in chaos. The ICW must be in an uproar- two heads of state dead, one injured, and their own Supreme Mugwump confined to bed rest. Neville's mother was a lost cause; even if they banished Voldemort's spirit from her, she would be left mad, imprisoned, or kissed by a dementor. And not to mention Bill, all the way back from last summer. No, the only thing they could do was try again. But the question remained: How could they fix all this?

"I think… we should hang around a little longer and make a plan," Hermione answered.

* * *

When Madame Pomfrey discharged Harry by the late afternoon they quickly rushed down to the Chamber of Secrets. First and foremost, they had to view the memory he'd pilfered from Snape's workshop. Without a pensieve around, the only way was to take it directly into his mind, and then share it with Hermione afterwards. Taking out the bottle, Harry dipped his wand into the silvery liquid and pulled it up towards his temple.

_Dumbledore was sitting across from Trelawney at the Hog's Head Pub. Apparently Dumbledore was looking for a new Divination professor; the previous one had failed to predict a slippery staircase for herself. The interview was going rather poorly; the headmaster was considering dropping the subject from the Hogwarts curriculum entirely. Trelawney was clearly passionate about her subject and her family heritage, but she didn't have any actual skill in the art, apparently. Just as he was about to end the interview, Trelawney's head flew back as she entered a trance-like state._

_With a deep, resounding voice that her vocal cords didn't seem capable of, she spoke._

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…"_

_A thump was heard outside the door. Dumbledore considered investigating, but he knew incomplete information was as dangerous as having no information at all. He stayed and continued to listen._

"_The fall of the Lord will mark his rise. The Lord will rise as he rises, grow as he grows, until one strikes the other down on their seventh crossing. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born as the seventh month dies…"_

When the memory ended, Harry stared at the goopy silver liquid in the bottle curiously. That couldn't be right. He handed the bottle over to Hermione. "Here, you take a look at this." He sat in silence as he watched Hermione take in the memory.

She finished it just as confused as he was. "Didn't it end differently? I could have sworn there was a line like 'has a power the Dark Lord knows not' and 'only one of you can live' or something to that effect."

"I'm remembering a different one. _The power shall save the boy from the Dark Lord thrice; his continued life will be the Dark Lord's demise,"_ Harry recited. "It was one of the last things I heard before… um… dying last time, so it's pretty vivid in my memory.

"Heard? Not seen, like with this memory?" Hermione jiggled the bottled memory around. Harry shook his head. "Then again, there's the other one we both eavesdropped on."

"Mark him with death, and something something Death visits…?" Harry racked his brain for the memory. He really should have filed away this memory in his head. In fact, he really had to reorganize his whole brain after this year's events. He'd been getting lazy in his occlumency meditations lately.

"_The Dark Lord will mark him with death, and only he can invite death to visit the one who slays him_," Hermione completed it for him. "That one barely makes any sense at all," she added. "Unless you somehow have the ability to kill people only after you're already dead."

"Didn't you say I was turned into an inferius?" Harry said, half-jokingly.

Hermione shuddered. "Don't remind me," she squeaked out. Harry wrapped his (warm) arms around her to reassure her.

"Seriously, though, I wonder… why all the different prophecies?" Harry mused.

"You think our time-travelling is creating separate dimensions, or tossing our memories into alternate dimension selves, where each one is very slightly different?" Hermione spoke absently, holding on to Harry. "Or maybe we're defying the forces of fate itself with the time travel, forcing prophecies themselves to change and adapt to our unnaturally-acquired powers?"

"Or, Dumbledore and Snape are liars," Harry theorized.

"That, too." They both looked into each other's eyes, and then broke out into laughter.

"You know, this means we're going to have to find the _real_ prophecy somehow," Harry said.

"Put that on our to-do list."

* * *

Returning to the muggle world was refreshingly normal. You couldn't possibly tell that there had been an international terrorist incident, walking down the streets of London. It must have been just as surreal for the other muggleborn children coming home from Hogwarts. Through Hogsmeade, the Hogwarts express, and Platform 9 ¾, there had been hushed whispers and fearful glances. People moved quickly through the streets and slammed doors shut behind them. Tension and apprehensiveness permeated the air. As soon as they stepped through the barrier at King's Cross, it all disappeared in an instant. Every non-magical person was bustling about the station normally.

Hermione found her parents and gave them a bone-crushing hug. Harry watched from afar and noted that her parents were happy, not apprehensive, when they were waiting for their daughter. Apparently nobody had bothered to inform them of the attack that could very well have killed their daughter if it weren't for a few hired wands that day. Dan Granger caught Harry staring, and gave a slight disapproving frown before turning back to his daughter. Guess he still hadn't gotten over the rather compromising situation last summer.

While she was catching up with her family, Harry glanced around the station on the off-chance that the Dursleys might have shown up to pick him up. Given how he'd abandoned Number 4, Privet Drive last summer without a word, he didn't expect them. No balls of blubber in sight. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. In their place, Sirius and Remus were waiting for him. With all the depressing news he'd been absorbing lately, this was a refreshingly welcome surprise.

"Harry! Good to see you're all recovered! You need to tell me exactly what went on that day. I mean, first Death Eaters kidnap you, then you come back in a smoking heap, and before I can ask you any questions Poppy kidnaps you and nobody's allowed into the infirmary!" Sirius howled with laughter.

"Really, though, Harry- we were worried sick about you. You smelled like you were almost caught by fiendfyre," Remus remarked. "The Death Eaters weren't holding back, were they?"

Harry chuckled. "It's been a week! You can still smell it? I'll tell you all about it, but not right now." He looked over at the Grangers, who were just about ready to leave the station. Hermione was running over to give him one more goodbye hug. "I was thinking of inviting the Granger family to dinner," Harry said. A little spending spree after winning a thousand galleons wasn't unjustified. More importantly, he knew that the Grangers needed a chance to talk to wizards closer to their own age, as opposed to only hearing about the world through their daughter.

"Harry! I'm going home now!" Hermione rushed up, hugging and kissing him. She whispered into his ear, "I'll expect you on my windowsill by Saturday, okay?"

"I've got a better idea. I'm going to take you and your parents to a nice dinner right now," Harry said.

Hermione's eyes grew wide as she let out a squeal of excitement. "That's fantastic! This might actually convince my dad that you're all right. I tried to let him know I'd be seeing you pretty often over the summer; he still doesn't quite approve of the idea. Where are we headed?"

Harry stared back at her blankly. He had no idea. The Dursleys had never taken him out to a restaurant in his life; he was lucky to be able to stand outside of a McDonald's while they ate. For him, the Three Broomsticks was the closest thing to a fine dining establishment he'd ever visited. He turned to his godfather. "Err… do you have any recommendations? I have no idea where to even _look_ for a restaurant."

Sirius rubbed his moustache in thought. "I've been wanting to give The Gnarlat another try. My parents used to love it, which meant I hated it, but as far as I remember the food was excellent. It should be enjoyable with better company."

"It's in Chordy Alley. We'll show you the way," Remus said to Hermione. "Good entertainment district. If they're interested we could even enjoy a symphony or a play afterwards."

* * *

When they popped out of the Floo, the first word that came to Harry's mind was _ritzy_. The lights, the statuettes, and the liberal application of marble, shiny gold plating, and sparkling jewels. In some ways, wizards and muggles were more alike than the former would like to admit.

"Are you sure we won't be a tad underdressed for this?" Emma Granger looked down at her own jeans and blouse.

"We can just transfigure something. We won't be here very long, will we?"

Sirius waved his wand over his own robes, causing it to darken, sprout a few buttons and a tie. It was less formal than the dress robes in Harry's trunk, but it was fitting for a simple dinner. Remus did the same. Hermione performed it on herself, shortening her robes into a little black cocktail dress- neither flashy nor simple. A few feathery ruffles by her knees gave it just enough flair. Harry followed suit, following Sirius's fashion cues.

"If you'll allow me?" Sirius gestured to Dan, who was still trying to hide his surprise at the display of magic. Of course, even though Hermione's parents been informed that their daughter was magical, they'd never been able to witness any magic at home. They could only trust reports printed on parchment that she was actually learning magic. This was one of the few times they'd witnessed it firsthand, and the casual ease with which their own daughter was using it must have truly seemed alien to them. Hermione finished transfiguring her mothers' clothes as Sirius finished with Dan.

"Well then, shall we get going?"

"These clothes aren't going to suddenly disappear at the stroke of midnight, will they?" Emma asked, still running her hands over her dress to make sure it wasn't merely an illusion.

"No, I put enough power into mine that it should last until next morning, if it ever comes to that… wait, what's so funny?" Sirius asked, seeing everyone else giggle.

"Muggle fairy tale, Sirius. Don't worry about it."

As they continued down the street, Harry couldn't help but notice a marked increase in auror presence. In the five minutes they strolled he saw three of them. They also had their badges displayed prominently over their cloaks; normally they'd be pinned to their robes. "Is there a reason why there's so many aurors here? I thought this was supposed to be a _nice_ neighbourhood," Harry remarked. He never saw an auror in Diagon Alley unless there was actual trouble.

"Of course they patrol here. It's where members of the Wizengamot and their friends spend their free time. Naturally this is the first place to get more patrolmen after… after what happened at the tournament," Remus answered, careful not to frighten off the Grangers too soon.

When they entered the restaurant, the headwaiter stopped them briefly with a disapproving glance at Remus and the Grangers that didn't go unnoticed. "I'm sorry, sir, but…"

Sirius seemed prepared for this. "If you're thinking about turning away Lord Black _and_ Lord Potter with your next words, you might as well start looking for another job immediately."

His eyes darted down to Harry, and widening in shock momentarily. "Party of six? Right this way…"

"_Now_ I remember why I hated this place," he muttered loud enough for the Hermione to hear. "Private table, please," ordered the headwaiter.

As soon as they were settled down in their seats, Sirius put up a silencing ward immediately. "Okay, Harry. Spill it. What happened after the cup?"

Harry sputtered. "What? You want to start with _that_? I'm trying to make a good impression for Mr. and Mrs. Granger, you know!" Dan and Emma looked visibly amused with Harry's uncomfortable squirming, said nothing.

"Come on! It's _interesting!_" Sirius goaded.

"Oh, and the Triwizard Tournament isn't? Why can't we just talk about that first?"

Sirius spoke rapidly as he turned to the Grangers. "Harry gets picked to represent his country in a year-long competition against the top students in France and Eastern Europe. He wins. There! Now tell us about the _good _part."

Harry had to remind himself to pick his jaw back up before speaking. "Sirius, it really isn't appropriate dinner conversation," he said.

"How inappropriate? Because you know that we may have very different definitions of inappropriate," he said with a barking laugh. Remus and Hermione shifted in their seats uncomfortably.

Harry leaned up, discreetly casting another privacy charm and whispered into Sirius's ear. "I must have killed at least a dozen Death Eaters, and almost got stabbed in the heart myself. I don't want to ruin anyone's appetite just yet." When he sat back down, Sirius was staring him with his face frozen in an awestruck expression.

"Okay. Definitely not dinner material. But you're still telling me later," Sirius demanded. "So, how about those tournament events, Harry?"

"As well as could be expected. I won," Harry shrugged. "Oh! But Hermione had to compete in my place for one of them! Scored nearly perfect, gave me a fantastic lead over the competition," he directed the praise towards her parents. Hermione blushed a little but couldn't hide her smile.

Throughout dinner, they recounted a heavily-edited version of their school year. Hermione did her best to impress her father with her boyfriend's accomplishments; likewise, Harry tried to remain humble and deflected some of the praise back to Hermione. The tales of the dragons and sandworms were especially fascinating for Emma; Dan was more interested in the duels. Remus recounted his year as their teacher; impressing upon the Grangers how quickly Hermione and Harry had improved in a year. That brought up their initiative with the student club and private potions tutoring.

Sirius couldn't stop praising his godson, even attributing his successful business as Harry's invention. This led to the Grangers explaining to him exactly what dentists were- and their shock at the terrible condition of Sirius's teeth. After a tragic tale of injustice and imprisonment, Sirius earned himself an appointment with the Grangers.

By the end of the night, they had such good company that they barely noticed the food they had been eating. Hermione managed to impress upon her parents the importance of practicing magic- which she could only do among magical adults; that is, while visiting Harry at his godfather's home. And there would be plenty of spellcasting that summer.

* * *

Harry, relatively free to practice his magic at Sirius's home, focused on learning as much practical magic as he could, while Hermione concentrated on parchment and memorization. The Marauders shared their wisdom gained from the previous war - like fumation. While both Remus and Sirius had been taught the skill in the Order of the Phoenix, they rarely practiced it in the field as much as Moody did. The good thing was that they knew the counterspells and had plenty of dittany on hand in case Harry failed to re-solidify a few body parts, so he could practice as much as he wanted.

The two Marauders also taught Harry what they remembered of a few contraptions of their own- the Marauder's Map, two-way mirrors, and the lock-slicing knife. Although none of them were particularly complicated magic (most of the items had been created prior to taking their OWLs), it was the creativity and combination of charms, runes, and arithmancy that they (Remus, mostly) were showing Harry. He valued both the practical application of theories as well as the link to his father's own childhood.

On the other hand, much of Hermione's time had to be spent at home without magic. She could practice her potions, though, so Harry bought her supplies while she perfected and refined her technique for making the potions they'd need right away – regrowth potion and eyesight potion for sure. Veritaserum would have to be on hand when they captured Peter Pettigrew. She also made sure they had a ready supply of wit-sharpening potions all summer- they'd be needing it.

When she wasn't brewing, Hermione used her time to memorize the notes from the Curse Cracking Company. She studied their methods for breaking the wards, traps, and enchantments surrounding the other horcruxes. She also received copies of Bill Weasley's notes about the wards surrounding the Riddle mansion. A good portion of the summer would be devoted to committing all of it to memory. In short, she was on a mission to become a cursebreaker through theory alone, in the span of one summer.

With Remus's help, however, Harry discovered he was on an equally difficult mission. Together, they tried to decipher how Ollivander created his little wand-attachment tool. The wandmaker had not been very forthcoming during their visits to Diagon alley; it was fairly obvious when Remus figured out the reason. The wandmaker was willing to give away the little contraption because it was merely a small step in his ultimate goal- the replication of the Elder Wand of lore. A one-use power-boosting device was still a long ways away from a legendary wand that could boost a wizard's magical power to undefeatable levels. Ollivander probably had far more advanced designs in his head; his gift to the Triwizard Tournament was likely an old design. Still, reverse-engineering decades' worth of research into replicating the Elder Wand? Harry had his work cut out for him.

* * *

On the days they did get to see each other, Harry and Hermione usually spent the first few hours testing their occlumency and legilimency, as well as using it as a shortcut to exchange memories of what they'd achieved over the previous week. After they finished, they spent the rest of the day relaxing and enjoying themselves. Usually they kept their dates on the muggle side of the world, but they did drop in on the magical world to buy potions supplies and a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ to keep up with the news.

It was two weeks after the assassination of Cornelius Fudge before the Ministry found a replacement: Rufus Scrimgeour, formerly the head auror, leapfrogged over his department head Amelia Bones. Madam Bones was far too busy coordinating law enforcement teams sweeping the country to leave her post, vowing to capture Alice Longbottom before she'd give up her position. Nobody else had enough courage to face the scathing attacks waiting for them from both politicians and media across Europe.

The following week, a familiar name caught their eyes on the headlines. **Longbottom Accuses Unspeakables for Dark Lady's Rampage**. Neville had done it. Now _that_ took courage – and the Daily Prophet couldn't hide it, because he'd been smart enough to owl copies of his accusation to other newspapers in Europe. Unfortunately, one line caught their eye. _The young Longbottom heir has been taken in for questioning_.

Hedwig couldn't locate Neville any more.

It took a lot of heated arguments before the two of them settled on the simple fact that none of what was happening around them truly mattered, no matter how hard it struck them emotionally. In a month, it would all be reset. They continued with their projects.

Halfway through summer, they spent some time in Diagon Alley to buy stacks of runestones. Harry had made some headway into deciphering Ollivander's device while Hermione had to test her cursebreaking skills on makeshift wards. What greeted them was chaos. A riot. As if the aurors didn't already have enough on their hands, it seemed like a large number of drunkards from Knockturn Ally had spilled over to Diagon Alley, throwing spells and stones alike and smashing windows. The two of them retreated back to the Leaky Cauldron, where more responsible people were enjoying their ale. The talk of the tavern shocked Harry – only a day ago, one of the Wizengamot members had assassinated Scrimgeour, then claimed the Imperius defense. Some people disagreed. Some people didn't. Either way it seemed to be a good excuse to cause some ruckus. Magical Britain was, once again, leaderless. They didn't get to buy their runestones that day.

From then on, Hedwig delivered their newspapers. They didn't dare venture into the Alleys. But even so, they couldn't escape the effects. The _Prophet_ reported that Dumbledore was having trouble keeping the ICW calm about the turmoil in Britain. The British ambassador claimed the other countries were using this as a pretense to invade Britain. The _Quibbler_ claimed that the second stage of the Rotfang conspiracy had begun.

None of their protests mattered. After another week, German _hexenmeisters_ were on their doorstep with full ICW support. Literally on their doorstep: they were searching through every magical home for evidence of harbouring Alice Longbottom. As if things a dark lord would hide in a common house like that- it seemed more like a publicity campaign for international newspapers than anything. The American warlocks would be joining them the following week.

* * *

Towards the end of summer, when their next Hogwarts letters arrived with a booklist, Harry and Hermione decided that it would finally be safe to venture out onto the streets again. If everybody else was out buying school supplies, surely they could as well. There wasn't anything they needed to buy as they were nearly ready to go back in time, but they decided to window-shop to see what they could buy upon their return.

At least the foreign warlock presence reassured the crowds a little. All the aurors were pulling extra shifts to keep the crowds safe.

Diagon Alley only sold relatively mundane, day-to-day items. The two of them bought ice cream and proceeded to floo to Unifer's Alley instead. There were fewer crowds, and equally fewer patrolmen here. Wanted posters with Alice Longbottom's face plastered the walls. It was interesting how a few well-placed strokes of an artist's hand could turn the gentle, motherly face into that of a rabid killer.

The two of them entered a shop called _The Hobblin' Goblin_. Inside the shop was a bunch of odd trinkets of goblin origin- things ranging from daggers and claw extensions to totems and skulls. Some of this stuff was ancient- it could probably date back to the last Goblin Rebellions.

Harry spied a small spyglass with an attachment clearly made to fit a goblin head. The placard in front of it read, "_Stone Seer._ _1742. Used by the Clan Sawkrun to identify false rubies delivered by the Ministry, inciting the Sixth British Goblin Rebellion."_ Interesting, but not useful. Further down the shelf, a pair of long, bladed claws caught his eye. _"Tearrorizors. 1749. Used by goblin berserkers in the Sixth British Goblin Rebellion. Four kills."_ Also interesting, but made for goblin hands- and Harry didn't think he'd make a very good berserker anyway.

"Have you found anything interesting?" he asked Hermione.

"No. The goblins seem to be really good at making very pointy things, though. If we really needed goblin steel, we could always find a way to nick the Sword of Gryffindor from Dumbledore's office," she answered. The two of them left the shop and proceeded on to the next.

The neighbouring store sold armour- named _Parson's Person Protection_. In a complete reversal to the goblin shop, there wasn't a hint of forged steel plate in these walls. The armours ranged wildly, from terratuga-shell body plates, to firecrab shoulder pauldrons, to lifewood shields, but the bulk of the shop's products used dragon leather from the reserves. Every corner of the store was filled with dragonhide and dragonscale armours of all varieties, from the soft and supple Welsh Green leather to the hard-as-steel Ironbelly scales. Then again, none of them could quite match the incredible quality of a thousand-year-old basilisk hide, which carried the best of both worlds. Evidently, the shopkeeper had an eye for such things, as his gaze never left Harry and Hermione's cloaks the minute they entered the shop. Finally, there was someone staring at him for reasons other than the scar.

"That's Fleming's logo…" the man finally breathed out. "Are you the ones who supplied me with that basilisk hide?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. There obviously wasn't a huge supply of giant serpents in Britain, so they nodded.

The man stuck his hand out. "Phillip Parson the Third. In all our generations this shop's been in my family, nobody's seen a haul like this one. You've done wonders for my business. Especially with that scare in June. All the international bigwigs won't settle for anything less- it's the only armour that can still fit under their dress robes! I might have to start raising prices." Harry and Hermione shook his hand.

"Glad to help," Harry said. "Why don't you have any on display like the dragonhide ones? I'd like to see how one fits…" He knew the cloaks already gave good protection, but that was only when standing still. They still fluttered and flapped behind him when he really had to move, exposing more than half his body during any real combat. A full set of form-fitting armour would be the best choice for protection.

"Oh, no no no… it's too precious to make a display model for. Every piece of basilisk is going to be saved for custom-sized cuts only," he answered.

"So… if we _were_ looking into having two sets of basilisk armour made… what kind of prices would we be looking at, approximately?" Hermione asked.

"Three thousand galleons, each," the shopkeeper answered. "I mean, I know you're Harry Potter, Triwizard Champion and all, but there's a good reason even rich folk like the Malfoys don't ever purchase these. Just the rich _and_ paranoid."

"I have good reason to be paranoid," Harry replied. "Now, how much for the acromantula silk version?"

"That would push it to four thousand. Each. And may I remind you I'm still waiting on the silk…?" At this point, he was only answering their questions for amusement's sake.

Harry knew that he'd be limited to a budget of 500 galleons a year once they returned- and he didn't want to wait until he was seventeen to get the armour. "What if we supplied you with the basilisk hide, tanned and ready to go? As well as enough acromantula silk? How quickly could you make two sets to fit us?"

"Heh. If you were willing to do that, then I'd just ask for the labour costs. It would take about a month. Three hundred galleons in total ought to be enough." That didn't help Harry much. He needed to leave enough money to pay for potions supplies, an extra wand, maybe a barrister to help free Sirius, and hitwizards to help against the assault on Voldemort. Maybe the cursebreakers again, as well. Having his budget sliced in half for armour made it a difficult decision.

"How about if we give you enough raw materials to make _three_ sets of armour, you make two of them for us for free; and you get to keep the rest?" Hermione proposed. Harry looked back and forth between her and the armourer with a grin plastered on his face.

"That's… more than a fair deal, I'd say," Parsons answered. "So, should I be expecting the two of you to walk in here with a pile of basilisk leather soon?"

"Perhaps the next time we see you," Harry answered slyly as they exited the shop. Well, at least they could cross body armour off the list.

* * *

Mistress Malkin's was closed, so they continued onwards to the funny shop down the street that sold enchanted Muggle products at ridiculously inflated prices. It was probably the kind of place Arthur Weasley would spend too much time in. Without any need for flying flyswatters or rubber duckies with lifelike quacking, they moved on. A sporting shop for "outdoor wizards" looked like it was having a rougher summer than usual- plenty of unsold tents, self-heating pottery, and collapsible boats still crowded the shelves. Although the two of them weren't planning on going camping any time soon, they did find a useful first-aid pouch; one that was about twenty times larger on the inside and was packed with all the basic potions and salves, and even included cushioning charms to protect all the vials. That was definitely worth buying.

Further down the line, passing by the jewellery and perfume shops, they came upon the odd plant shop that Harry had nearly forgotten about. One of the final mysteries he still had yet to decipher about Ollivander's device was the type of plant (if it was a plant at all) the device was made from. It had long since dried out and shrivelled up, making it all the harder to identify, but Harry hoped a shopkeeper that dealt in exotic plants could help.

"Eh? What can I do fer ya?" The man popped out from behind a bush.

"I'm trying to identify what kind of plant is surrounding this gem," Harry explained, holding out Ollivander's device.

The man grabbed Harry's wrist, but didn't touch the gem itself. He stared for a minute without making a sound. "Tea," he finally said.

"Excuse me?"

"Might make a good tea. 'aven't got a clue. What were you trying to do wif 'at? Make 'er a ring of sorts?" he asked, pointing to Hermione. "Ya'd get better luck wif the jeweller's across the street."

"No, no… that's not it. It's used to transmit magical power somehow. I wanted to know if you had any kind of plant that could do that," Harry sighed in frustration. He couldn't think of any other botanists to look for, and the textbooks he'd read hadn't helped. Ollivander must have travelled far and wide to make these things.

"Transmit magic? Ya mean… like wand-wood? There's plenty of trees fer that. Ya just have to find the right one…"

"No… well, yes, but not quite…" Harry was having trouble explaining the strange little thing in his palm. If the shopkeeper had been listening to Harry, he would have been confused. It was a good thing that he wasn't.

"…but if ya want a real shortcut, 'cuz who's got the time fer grabbin' every piece o' wood in a forest anyway, you can just spill some blood on some aciesans 'ere." He pointed at a blood-red plant. "Ya can't use this one, I've been feedin' it chicken blood. But this one's got about two more cups o' blood to go before it sprouts some seeds, and if ya feed yer blood to it from seedlin' to maturity, it's guaranteed compatible wood."

"Really." Harry and Hermione looked at the little plant in wonder. "Why wouldn't anyone else do this?"

"Why would they? Any old bloke can walk into Ollivander's these days and pick from a thousand wands. Gotta be somefin' in that store fer somebody. And who likes bleedin' out for a whole monf anyway? Ain't that why yer here? Did you get banned from Ollivander's too?"

"Huh? Banned?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a dozen cracks of apparition. Just outside the shop, two witches locked in battle appeared a split second before a squad of armoured aurors and several warlocks surrounded them.

The witches were almost completely ignoring the aurors. "You're not the Dark Lord! I refuse it! Don't you _dare_ take his name!" a screeching voice pierced the air, which was quickly drowned out by the sound of an explosion and falling cobblestones. Hermione cast reinforcement charms on the glass in front of the store while Harry created a shield. They could see one of the aurors go flying.

"Your beliefs are meaningless. I know what is mine, and I will _take it back_." The voice was both familiar and completely alien, but Harry couldn't match it to a face. The ground rose up, forming the top half of a massive golem. It knocked down several more aurors, completely ignoring their spellfire, as it swung a massive fist at its true target. The storefronts were being completely demolished.

The first witch fumated to avoid the golem's fist, re-forming high above the street for a second. For one second, Harry could see her face: Bellatrix Lestrange. The messy mop of hair and the expression of bloodlust were unmistakable. "Take that, you wench!" she screamed as she let off three quick bombardment charms. Before she plummeted to the ground, she fumated away again back to the ground.

The witch at the center of the explosions didn't even bother to move. Her shields protected her as well as one solitary patch of untouched pavement. "You still deny me? Come, surely you recognize _this!_" She breathed out a giant skull-shaped flame; from the skull's mouth a flaming serpent shot out at Bellatrix. "_Bite her arm off, leave the rest untouched,"_ the witch added in Parseltongue. Harry recognized the spell for what it was – fiendfyre, cast with absolute precision, non-verbally. He couldn't help but be in awe at the power he was looking at. The aurors were reduced to using their best shielding and flame-warding charms to prevent the entire alley from being burnt.

Bellatrix screamed and apparated away just before the flames engulfed her. The second witch turned to gloat at the aurors for a second before apparating away as well. _Now_ Harry recognized her- Alice Longbottom, otherwise known as Lord Voldemort, or the Dark Lady according to the _Daily Prophet_. Looked like she was having a bit of infighting with the old Death Eaters.

"Alert Diagon Alley patrols! That was a close one. They've apparated to Dover! They may be trying to cross the Channel! All available teams, converge on the cliffs!" With that, several pops of apparition signified the departure of the aurors. The one issuing orders remained, running over to a fallen auror. "Can you get yourself to St. Mungo's?"

The man had spilled a lot of blood on the street, but thankfully his armour had protected him enough to wave to his captain and apparate himself away.

The shopkeeper came running out of the store carrying the little red plant. He pulled it out of its pot and placed it in the pool of blood the auror had left behind. The plant seemed to sprout a few leaves within seconds of soaking up the blood. "Perfect! One chicken's worth of blood to go! I'll 'ave yer seeds ready in a jiffy," he said as he ran back into the store.

Staring at the swath of destruction left behind, Harry and Hermione were surprised there weren't any casualties. But if Voldemort was running around in the open and _still_ had no problems ignoring the aurors… there seemed to be no more hope left for this Britain. "I think this would be a good time to leave," Hermione reminded him by tugging on his sleeve.

* * *

That night, after Hermione gave her parents some unexpected hugs and Harry had gone on one final animagus jaunt through the forest with Sirius, they met in Hermione's back yard.

"Ready to go?" Harry asked. Hermione answered with a nod, looking back at her house as she did. They sat down on the lawn in each other's arms, holding a familiar cluster of carved runestones to their chests as they did so.

"See you on the other side." They gave each other a kiss before charging up the array. _This time, we're getting it right_.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- Woot! So much for that time loop! I didn't realize the author's note on my last chapter was so confusing, but may I remind you guys that dying isn't the _only_ way for them to go back in time...

- huh. I've crossed the 400k word mark. When I first started writing this story I didn't think I'd cross 100k.

- Random thought of the day: The Goblin Nation appears to be an entity that is entirely separate from the Ministry of Magic. They have complete control over the wizard economy. Why would any nation that _won_ the Goblin Rebellions ever hand over _all their money_ over to the loser to control? Unless, of course, the wizards weren't really the winners. Subtle propaganda for you there. Or just poor planning on JKR's part. Oh well.


	67. Haste Makes Waste

**Author's**** Notes: **If I could go back in time, I still wouldn't own Harry Potter.

- Hmm. Some other ideas popped into my head that wouldn't go away. Ended up starting another fic.

- HEART OF THE SWARM! Ahhrg, I'm busy enough with everything else in life to get distracted now!

* * *

**Chapter 67: Haste Makes Waste**

"Harry, don't try to apparate onto a moving train, especially not before we've done the blood runes."

That had to be the strangest thing for Harry to wake up to so far. He looked up at Hermione. "What?"

Hermione was already pulling him to his feet, obviously trying to make get out of the Chamber of Secrets as quickly as possible. "Dear Maeve, that was such a stupid decision. Getting into my parents' good graces isn't _that_ important. I can't believe you did that," she scolded Harry, who remained oblivious. "And I can't believe I agreed to it! Dumbest decision of my life." She was still grumbling as they crawled out of the Chamber of Secrets. Given her mood, Harry decided it was best to just let her get it out of her system as they walked.

When they left Myrtle's bathroom, though, Harry noticed the other students, sprinting towards the entrance of the castle with their trunks floating behind them. It looked like they were about to miss the carriages. They were headed in the opposite direction, though. "Hey… do you think we could make it onto the Hogwarts Express in time?"

"_No_. Runes first." Hermione's answer had an undeniable tone to it. She grabbed Harry's hand and began to direct him upstairs more forcefully.

"I seem to be missing something… what's going on?"

"Of course you're missing something. The runes," Hermione answered. "You said, 'Oh, if we make it onto the Hogwarts Express in time you can introduce me to your parents properly and we won't get off on the wrong foot!'"

She threw her arms up into the air in exasperation. "And then I said, 'but what about the blood runes?' You said something like, 'What could _possibly_ hurt us in the first day coming back?' The answer's _trains_, Harry. _Trains_."

"I'm sure I had a good… or at least, half-decent reason for doing that," Harry replied, noting that he'd never given much thought to apparating onto a tightly confined, moving object like a train cabin.

"Well, it was mostly about getting you away from the Dursleys and into a comfy bed across the hall from mine," she answered. She spun around, looking Harry in the eyes while continuing to walk backwards. "I… have a confession. I'm the one who suggested apparating… because I didn't really want to ride a broom. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be. I don't remember it, but I'm the one who made the mistake in the end… watch out!" Harry screamed as Hermione, who was still focused on him, didn't notice that a moving staircase had just shifted out of the way. To her astonishment, she fell over the edge.

Harry watched as Hermione grasped at her wand, which fell out of her pocket and tumbled out of her reach mid-air. He tried to flick his wand into his palm, only to remember that he didn't carry it in a forearm holster any more. He saw Hermione try to an animagus transformation in a panic, but three stories was a short distance to fall- she didn't manage to complete the transformation in time.

Harry shifted into his animagus form and flew straight down to Hermione. The slow ooze of blood wasn't a good sign. "_Mobilicorpus_," he incanted. The sickeningly wet sound as her body left the ground wasn't good, either. "_Viseera Vita_," he tried. The only good news the spell could tell him was that she likely died instantly.

* * *

"Harry, don't try to apparate onto a moving train, especially not before we've done the blood runes." The sound of Hermione's voice calmed him down considerably.

"I won't. As for you, Hermione, don't try to walk backwards in front of moving staircases," Harry answered.

"What?" Hermione blinked in confusion. "Harry, I'm not joking. Something serious happened…"

"Yeah, you told me all about how I killed myself apparating onto a train. While you were doing that, you fell down a flight of moving stairs."

There was an awkward silence as they stared at each other.

"Did we both just drink a _Dolor Detrimus _potion or something?"

"I think we should just try to do things as normally as possible," Harry said. "Like we did a half-dozen times already."

They managed to get to the seventh floor without incident this time, because of their caution – or in spite of it. Never before had Hogwarts itself seemed so scary. The rune-carving gave them some time to reaffirm their "battle plan" for the summer.

"So, we're not going to try any weird tactics to introduce you to my parents," Hermione said. "Are you going to stay here, or with the Dursleys?"

Harry almost snorted in disgust. "If I'm not going to live with you, I'd rather stay here in Hogwarts the entire time. I could actually end up skinning the whole basilisk faster if I'm here day and night. I won't even bother trying to catch up to the Hogwarts Express. Once we're done here, I'll head down to the Chamber of Secrets and turn it into a flat."

"That's a good idea," Hermione said. "But won't the Dursleys have anything to say about it? What if they tell Dumbledore? Shouldn't you at least meet them?"

"Eh, they hate magic enough and they'll be glad to be rid of me. They'll be happy that I didn't show up on Platform 9 ¾. They won't speak a word to Dumbledore. They try to have as little to do with the magical world as possible."

Hermione was somewhat surprised. She knew how much Harry disliked the Dursleys, and how much they loathed him; but she assumed he'd let them know beforehand when he took flight the last two times. She didn't get the sense that Harry was exaggerating at all- if the Dursleys really neglected him that much… she made a note of it in her head, but didn't press further.

"I can do most of the potion-brewing. The Trace won't detect potionwork at my home. Do you mind handling the things on the Hogwarts side?"

"Of course. We'd still have to meet up, though. You can make me the tanning potion… and you'll need my tears for the eyesight potion… how about weekends?" Harry suggested.

Hermione put down her tools and gently rested her hands on Harry's bare shoulders. She leaned in and said, "You know, I'm hoping to see you more often than _that_."

"I could always use a good flight every night. I'll bring a fish," Harry joked. "And tell them not to take notice of any ospreys that descend upon their home at, I don't know, nine-thirty tonight?"

When they finished the runes, they immediately sought out Ravenclaw's diadem and destroyed it with a basilisk fang. That took all of fifteen minutes, still leaving Hermione plenty of time to help Harry clean and re-organize the Chamber of Secrets to be comfortable enough for a teenager to live in for the summer. In addition, they raided the Junk Room for various items, like chairs and tables to furnish Harry's new living space, and pocketable mirrors to be charmed like Sirius's. Hermione tried to find a pair of omnioculars for a project, but there weren't any in the room. Harry promised to buy a pair when they met up in Diagon Alley.

* * *

The first week went by at a frenetic pace. Every other night, Harry would sneak out of Hogwarts, fly to the outer edge of the wards, appparate to the outskirts of Southampton, and then fly the rest of the way to Hermione's house. Thankfully, no letters from the Ministry resulted from this method, confirming their suspicions that the Trace only worked near muggle homes.

Occasionally Hermione would do the opposite, coming to Hogwarts so they could train in the Forbidden Forest or in the Room of Requirement. On other days, they'd go shopping for supplies. They bought the same spare wands as last time- rowan and dragon heartstring for Harry, hazel and unicorn hair for Hermione. Adding in holsters, first-aid kits, books on wand-lore and runes, new clothes, and large quantities of expensive potion ingredients, the two of them ended up using half their summer budget within two weeks. There would barely be any money to hire hitwizards to help assault Riddle manor- they'd have to wait until August, when Harry would be allowed to make another large withdrawal from his trust vault, or start selling basilisk parts.

By mid-July, Hermione had finished both the eyesight and regrowth potions. Harry had stripped the basilisk of most of its skin, and was simply awaiting the leather-tanning potion to do its work. Nearly everything was ready except for the body armour, and they just needed to harvest some acromantula silk for it.

"Did I tell you exactly how scary acromantula were?" Harry asked, hugging his girlfriend as they stared into the Forbidden Forest. Reliving his old terrors was one of the worst.

"No. But from the way Ron almost went comatose every time I asked, I may have the general idea. You just said it was scary and never doing it again. But here we are."

"I'm _sure_ I was more descriptive than that."

"You were twelve at the time, Harry. And you weren't exactly the most verbose twelve-year-old, either."

"Well, let me amend that to… _really_ scary, then." Harry glanced at Hermione, who was about to burst into a fit of laughter. "Really scary _and_ freaky. It's the way they talk, and stare at you with eight eyes."

Together, they trudged into the darker regions of the forest. As they began, the birds were twittering and the sun shone through the trees. The further they progressed, the quieter it got- no other animals dared to linger in these regions. The first traces of white cobweb on the ground put them on their guard- even high above, the sunlight was being blocked by old web instead of the foliage. Unfortunately, the cobweb was too dirty and of poor quality to be used for their armour.

They passed by desiccated animal carcasses- Hermione unhelpfully mentioned that spiders tend to digest their prey by injecting digestive juices before slurping up the insides. Since she wasn't actually talking to him, Harry wasn't sure if this was an attempt at humour, or a nervous tic that made her spew random information about what was scaring her.

Harry's supersensory charm helped him see movement in the branches above. It was amazing how quietly a half-ton arachnid could move. Harry held out both his wands, one pointing up at the acromantula he could see, and the other out ahead of him. He put his back up against Hermione's. "They're here," Harry said. "Are you confident about fumating out of here?" She drew her wand as well, nodding.

More and more beady eyes began to show up around them. One of them pounced. Harry quickly blasted it away with an overpowered spider-repellent charm- apparently household charms _did_ work on acromantulas if you cast it hard enough. A few other brave (or hungry) spiders decided to attack as well, but Hermione decided to cast several tap-dancing jinxes in quick succession to slow all of them down, giving Harry more time to banish them. With four times the number of legs, she had to overpower that simple jinx as well, but they seemed to be holding their own. Since the spiders had hard exoskeletons and a vastly different internal anatomy, there was no point in trying to kill them with cutting or piercing curses. They continued to banish their way forward.

As they fought, Harry maintained course towards Aragog's lair, or as close as he could remember. Most of the acromantula in the forest were Aragog's spawn, and they still listened to their parent. He needed to strike a deal. Strangely enough, despite the old acromantula's warning, the others weren't attacking as vigorously as Harry expected. Most of the spiders seemed to step out of the way rather than fight as they continued to advance. They finally arrived at a massive dome of spider silk, made of enough layers of cobweb to completely block out the sun and rain. A massive tree had fallen against it, and it showed no signs of strain.

"You make footsteps like common prey, cast spells like wizards… and yet you reek of the ancient enemy. What are you?" From the depths of the web-tunnel came Aragog, crawling. He was old and blind, his eight eyes turned glassy long ago. His legs didn't move with the nimbleness that the young spiders carried, and his body very nearly dragged along the ground as he walked. But he was still massive, at least twice as large as any of the acromantula they'd fought coming in. Harry had years' worth of magical training and education by now, and yet he still felt the same fear when he saw Aragog's pincers move as it imitated human speech. Behind him, Hermione suddenly gained a great deal of empathy for the twelve-year-old Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"A friend of Hagrid's," Harry answered. "You don't look very well, Aragog."

"YOU!" screeched Aragog. "I remember. I promised my young fresh meat, and you escaped. Perhaps you are giving them another chance?" On his words, the entire crowd of acromantulas stepped closer. Harry conjured an impressively large bluebell flame as a warning. A few of the nearer spiders shrieked at the sudden burst of bright light, but none of them were harmed.

"I'm a little stronger than when we last met, Aragog. I'll have everything in sight burnt to a crisp before any of you are capable of striking." Upon looking at Aragog's glassy eyes again, he added, "Well, everything in _my_ sight, at least."

"My life is already nearing its end, child. Your threats do you no good. My swarm is great, and though a few may die, we will suck your juices dry…"

"Several hundred of your spawn for only a hundred pounds of flesh? Now that's just silly," Harry said, brightening up the flames' intensity so that even Aragog could feel the heat. "Let's not throw away lives needlessly, shall we? You acromantulas are smart. We can make a deal." At least, that was what Harry desperately hoped would be true.

"Deal? What kind of deal does a serpent-smelling human propose?" Aragog chattered and clicked his pincers.

"I smell like this because I have slain the serpent. THE serpent, Aragog. The one that Hagrid had to protect you from fifty years ago. I am offering you its meat."

The chattering and clicking of Aragog spread to the surrounding acromantulas, ripping at their ears like a thousands of fingernails on chalkboards. The unnerving sound coming from every direction caused the two lone teens to shudder and wince. It was the furthest thing possible from human laughter, and yet it must have been the spider equivalent. "You? Give us the meat of our mortal enemy? And what do you ask for in return?"

"Silk. I want freshly-spun silk."

"How much meat will you bring?"

The two of them looked at each other and tried to figure it out. With featherweight charms and levitation charms working together, they could probably haul a half-ton of basilisk meat to the forest. "As much as we can bring- more than double your own weight in meat. It's in your favour to let us walk through unimpeded. All we ask for is twenty pounds of webbing- you could have it done by the time we return."

"Agreed. Return with the meat by sundown, and we will have your webbing ready," Aragog said, slinking back into his tunnel.

* * *

Hours later, they returned as agreed, hauling in a large section of the basilisk's body. When Harry took hold of the bundle of silk, his hands stuck to it. The natural adhesives were so strong he literally couldn't lift a finger to help Hermione, who was trying to fend off an entire colony of attacking acromantula.

"I told you my spawn would enjoy the taste of your flesh," chattered Aragog, before he bit down on Harry's body.

* * *

"Scratch acromantula silk off the list, then," Hermione said, when both of them awoke in the Chamber of Secrets.

"You know, I'd like to give it one more try," Harry suggested. "I mean, he _did_ make the silk as requested. We just need a better exit strategy."

Three weeks later, they were walking into the deepest, darkest part of the Forbidden Forest again. This time, they had brooms _and_ practiced apparating to the Shrieking Shack in a pinch.

"We want your silk," Harry stated to Aragog. "Uncoated. No adhesive."

"And can bring another load of meat tomorrow, in exchange for more silk," Hermione added. "In fact, we could provide you with plenty of basilisk meat if we each keep our ends of the bargain."

"Very well. We shall see when we taste it," Aragog answered.

This time, when they returned, the spiders didn't try pouncing on them. They remained back to back, wands at the ready, as Aragog and his brood tore chunks of meat off the basilisk's body. The giant spiders didn't try to eat them, thankfully.

"Very satisfying," Aragog told them as the chunk of the basilisk's body was reduced to a dry mass of bone. "Take the silk. Have more tomorrow."

Harry didn't touch the silk at all and levitated it instead. The two of them flew off on Harry's Firebolt, and only checked the silk for adhesives within the safety of the Shrieking Shack.

* * *

Hedwig swooped down onto Hermione's shoulder as she stepped out of the armourer's shop, right after the delivery of the silk. She proudly hooted and presented a letter to the witch she was standing on. Harry walked out of the shop behind them, and gleefully reached up to pet his feathery friend.

Hedwig hooted once at Harry, then turned away, ignoring his hands. Over the past few weeks Hermione had made much more use of Hedwig for her correspondence with various cursebreakers and hitwizards. Harry, on the other hand, couldn't care for his owl when she arrived at Hogwarts, since he was spending so much time in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that, Hedwig!" Harry pleaded. "I had a _lot_ of work to do! Hermione kept you plenty busy, didn't she?" Hedwig hooted gleefully and gave Hermione's ear a friendly nip, and then continued to ignore Harry.

"Okay, how about an owl treat when we get back?" Hedwig continued to make herself at home, as if Hermione's bushy hair was her new nest.

"Okay, a rat then. A fresh, juicy rat," Harry bargained. "I'll pop over to Diagon Alley and I'll buy you a live rat from the Owl Emporium." Hedwig turned her head around, suddenly interested in her master once again.

"Uh… about that, Harry. We may need to talk about finances," Hermione said, staring at the parchment Hedwig had delivered. "It seems… we can only afford to hire cursebreakers or hitwizards. Not both."

"Wait, what? Does that include selling the basilisk venom? I know the apothecary in Diagon Alley's offering a hundred galleons a vial…"

"And the one in Knockturn Alley's offering a hundred and ten. I checked," Hermione answered. "Either way, we won't have eight hundred galleons. We could hire some teams for five hundred if we're really pushing it, but I don't think it's a good idea to… er… hire less-experienced groups."

"Let's go with the cursebreakers, then. But they only need to take down the wards. We can handle Pettigrew, Crouch, and babymort our own, once the armour's done. I don't want Bill to get too involved."

Hermione nodded, pulling a notebook out of her small pouch, making notes. "And then there's the scheduling issue…"

"Scheduling? We've still got plenty of time left…"

"With this whole armour thing… it's set us back a few weeks compared to our original plans. We'll have to make our attack around the time of the World Cup."

"Could be a good thing. If Crouch or Pettigrew were the ones starting the riot, it just means Voldemort's got fewer defenders at home."

"Or it could mean he's strong enough to defend himself."

"Let's not stir anything up, then. If we don't spook Voldy, he'll probably just keep biding his time in the manor," Harry said. "He stayed in that weak baby-body for a whole year. I doubt he's very independent."

* * *

When Harry's birthday vision passed by almost identically to last year, they confirmed their decision to attack the manor later. The main goal would be to capture Pettigrew alive, Crouch as well, and kill Voldemort. At least, temporarily. That would give them plenty of time to hunt down the better-protected horcruxes, grant Sirius a trial, and maybe even have a normal school year. If it took Voldemort thirteen years to regain a body the first time, it could very well be another thirteen for him to do it again.

For the remaining weeks, they continued to hone their skills, and their tools, in the fight against Voldemort. Harry was still having trouble conveying all the intricacies of fumation to Hermione- third-hand memories may not have been the best method to teach. Meanwhile, Hermione continued her experiment with the Omnioculars while Harry tried to recreate Ollivander's wand-boosting device without success. Most importantly, they reviewed their memories of the Riddle Manor, trying to recreate an accurate map and route of attack. The two of them replicated Bill's notes on the wards from memory, writing them out and creating mock-ups to practice against.

They sent Hedwig to Kroyer's Curse Crackers the moment they received word that their armour was ready. When they arrived at the shop, the armourer presented them with two finely-crafted sets of full-body armour. It didn't look like any other piece of armour in the shop, which were thick, bulky pieces meant to be worn over wizard robes. The ones they received bore a resemblance to motorcycle gear. Each came as a two-piece, form-fitting leather suit. Both the pants and the top had been carved out of a contiguous piece of leather each, minimizing the amount of stitching while still being cut to a tailored fit. Most of the leather had been hardened much like the other leather armour in the shop, but at the joints they remained supple, so their movement was minimally restricted. A soft hood provided spell protection for their heads, but minimal physical protection.

Both of them put on their armour immediately. The acromantula silk was definitely worth the effort- it was soft, smooth, strong, yet stretchy, making the whole thing fit as comfortably as an undergarment. They didn't even want to consider how much their skin would have chafed against the leather if they hadn't got it. While a little bulky to hide under muggle clothing, they could be passed off as an actual motorcycle suit, so long as nobody noticed they were still teenagers. A loose set of wizarding robes fit over easily, though, keeping their protective gear hidden from view. They chose to remain in wizarding garb for that extra element of surprise.

"I'm glad they fit you so well. It's been good doing business with you," the armourer said as they came out of the fitting room. "Now, the silk on the inside has the full set of cleaning, fitting, comfort, cooling and heating charms applied to them. The leather, naturally, is too magic-resistant to charm, so you'll have to clean it the old-fashioned way with some potions and elbow grease." He continued to talk about maintenance and care, trying to sell them accessories and other products, but the two teens simply thanked him and left the shop. They only had an hour or so to get ready for the attack.

They apparated to the Shrieking Shack, and the first thing Harry felt was _pain_. It was like he'd stepped on- or apparated on top of- a bunch of rusty nails. He screamed, and looked down. His foot was bleeding. No, correct that. His ankle was bleeding, and his foot was on the other side of the room. He'd splinched himself. _Okay. Don't panic. I just need Hermione to help me get to St. Mungo's._ Harry recalled that he was, in fact, still fourteen years old and now living without any guardians, muggle or magical. _Scratch that. We've got dittany in the Chamber of Secrets. Just have to get there before I bleed out…_

Hermione's scream came from the next room, making him forget all about his own pain. He hopped over to see her kneeling on the ground, with both her hands splinched as well. He drew his wand and cast numbing and stasis charms on her wrists. "We need to get to St. Mungo's."

"We've got the essence of Dittany in…"

"No," wheezed out Hermione. "Too much. Need professionals." The numbing charms were helping her regain a hold of her senses, but she'd already lost quite a bit of blood. And there was the fact that her hands were missing.

"I'm not going to apparate again… why did we both splinch ourselves?"

"I think…" she gasped, still recovering from shock, "…that it's because the armour's magically resistant. We should have practiced first."

"Right. Right, of course. That was stupid. Okay, let's head over to St. Mungo's then." Harry hopped back to the room he started in, gathered up his foot and Hermione's hands. He cast stasis charms on all of the body parts, and together they hobbled out of the shack to the Three Broomsticks. Needless to say, the Boy-Who-Lived wearing expensive armour gathered a lot of attention.

* * *

"You know what the worst part is? I didn't even mind the splinching all that much. Or the Ministry interrogations. Or Dumbledore. Or losing access the Chamber of Secrets. It's the fact that we have to deal with Aragog and his damn colony again," Harry let out an exasperated sigh as he got up and stretched out. Here he was in the Chamber of Secrets yet again.

"You didn't find getting kidnapped from St. Mungo's all that bad, huh?" Hermione replied.

"Nothing I haven't experienced before," Harry shrugged. "Blood, bones, and babymort mixed in a cauldron. A whole ten months ahead of schedule. You know, is that whole armour thing even worth it?"

"You weren't even wearing it at the time! _I _managed to take on eight Death Eaters solo," Hermione huffed. "Well, almost."

"It was a rhetorical question!" Harry exclaimed. "You're a beast when you're angry, by the way."

"Thanks." She gave him a deep kiss, glad to be back in safe haven together. Harry returned the favour, enjoying the moment of respite. "Come on. Let's carve those blood runes again. And no apparating on trains."

"Oh, you're one to talk, Miss fell-down-a-flight-of-stairs."

* * *

One good thing to come out of all this was that practice made things _faster_. In their third time experiencing the second week of August of this summer, they'd managed to collect their armour. It left them a week to practice before their scheduled attack on the Riddle Manor. Much of it was simply re-learning the basics- moving, dodging, and turning with the armour on.

They spent a full day re-learning how to apparate, going short distances with essence of Dittany on hand. It was obvious that the body parts covered by the armour didn't quite move as easily as the parts that weren't, but it still took a while to get used to how much more strength it took to jump or dodge. They hadn't even considered that the basilisk's magic resistance would work against them before this. It was probably sheer luck that they didn't splinch their own heads off the first time. Damn armourer didn't even think to warn them.

Likewise, animagus transformation and fumation were equally difficult to perform, but they managed to spend their last day working on those skills. Incidentally, they discovered that when the armour was incorporated into their animagi forms, their feathers took on a deep green tint. They continued until sunset, when Hermione had to return home, bringing a magical, green-feathered osprey to show to her parents.

The next morning, Harry and Hermione finally faced down the Riddle Manor. Hermione's omniocular experiment had finally come to fruition, shrinking the components and linking them with a protean charm. In short, it had all the benefits of a regular pair of omnioculars, but could be worn over one eye, and allowed each of them to see what the other was recording. Copying the same charms from Sirius's mirrors allowed sound, as well. They decided to just call them "omnis" for short. Hermione was observing from a hill near the family graveyard, while Harry circled carefully over on his broom, trying to spy in through windows while hidden with his invisibility cloak. The combination of complex wards and simple curtains foiled their efforts at some pre-assault reconnaissance.

"Looks quiet from up here," Harry whispered into his omni.

"Yeah, I'm not seeing anything down here, either," Hermione replied. "Kroyer and his team are in position. Are you ready?"

"Go for it."

Within fifteen seconds, he felt a ripple of magic wash past him and saw a dome of energy sizzle out over the mansion. Five ward stones erupted with energy, burning themselves out in the process.

"_Bombarda!_" Harry blasted apart one of the upper floor windows and flew straight in. He twirled around and saw _three_ Death Eaters. Thankfully, they were caught completely off-guard by his entrance, and he was still mostly covered by his invisibility cloak. Each one of them got a bone-shattering hex. The two lucky ones only lost the use of their legs. One of them caught it in the spine. As they fell, Harry stunned every one of them.

No time to be nice about it. Harry summoned all their wands and ground them to sawdust, and severed their hands with _Sectumsempra_. They wouldn't heal themselves from that too easily. A human-revealing charm combined with the supersensory charm told Harry there were more Death Eaters spread throughout the building. "Two more upstairs. I'll take care of them first and make some more noise. There's five more on the main floor. They're heading towards the basement. Not sure which one's Voldemort. Be careful, Stilts," he relayed the information to Hermione.

The two that were upstairs were more proactive than the others. Seeing three unconscious bodies on the ground made them leap into action. The shorter one threw a shield charm up while the taller one cast over the other's shoulder, sweeping the area with wide-effect slicing hexes.

The hex tore through Harry's invisibility cloak and his robes, but the armour underneath stopped it all. Harry cursed in his head. He didn't want to lose his father's heirloom like this, but it was already too late. The moment he was revealed, both Death Eaters cast piercing hexes at him, which bore through his shield charms. Thankfully, the armour continued to faithfully absorb the magical spells, letting Harry counterattack by blasting apart the floor. He followed up by banishing all the wood splinters towards them like a hail of toothpicks.

He looked down at the hole he'd created. The two Death Eaters were already getting up, and wasted no time peppering Harry with more piercing charms. The spells shot through the floor, turning the floorboards into swiss cheese as Harry tried to dodge. When he ran out of hallway, he jumped into a room. The spellwork followed him- he was making far too much noise not to be noticed. He blasted through a wall to keep running, ending up back where he came. The floor was going to collapse any minute now, given the damage it had taken. Maybe it just needed a little nudge…

"Stilts! Where are you?" Harry shouted, still dodging more piercing hexes.

"West entrance. Sneaking in. Should I be louder?"

"No! Stay there!"

Harry cast the strongest heavyweight charm he could muster at the floor. The floors began to creak. He cast the spell again on the same spot as he jumped, finishing with a hard double-legged stomp. With a slow groan, half of the entire upper floor gave way, falling down and crushing those below.

As the dust settled, Harry found himself facing four Death Eaters. Granted, Harry already had his shield charm up, not to mention his armour. "Well, well. Who do we have here? Auror? Unspeakable? When the Dark Lord's through with you, you're gonna… URK!"

He collapsed, along with the others, as Hermione stunned all of them from behind. "Were you trying to take on _all_ of them by yourself, Bandit?" she asked cheekily. "I've got to do some of the work too, you know."

"Hey, you know me. I'm just playing it by ear." Harry summoned all of their wands and pulverized them, then sliced their hands at the wrist like he did for the previous three. With every snap of bone, Hermione winced.

"Har- Bandit, is that really necessary? I… it's just… brutal."

"I tried stunning and breaking their bones last time," Harry answered. "It didn't work. Took down a dozen of them and half of them came back. You really need to get used to… well, more permanent forms of incapacitation. I'm trying to be as nice as possible. _Sectumsempra_." Killing was unpleasant. Harry didn't want to do it again; at least, not if he could avoid it. Besides, they definitely needed Pettigrew alive. Harry stopped in sudden realization.

Harry pulled off each of the Death Eater's masks. He levitated the piles of wood out of the way to reveal the two Death Eaters, crushed to death. He pulled off their masks. Avery, Goyle, Crabbe, and… Malfoy. Well, it would be interesting to see how Draco would act this coming year. Harry continued on with the first three he'd incapacitated upstairs. He didn't recognize any of them. This was bad. The last two remaining were crushed to death…

Hermione helped him levitate the wood out of the way. The shorter one casting the shield had been Pettigrew. "Oh, don't you piss around with me, stupid pillock!" Harry shouted, kicking at Pettigrew's body. It was completely unresponsive. "You're supposed to testify to Sirius's innocence! Ahhrg!"

"Stop it! Calm down! Getting his body might be enough. Look, we still need to get Voldemort, right? _Hominem Revelio_." The detection spell showed them one more human downstairs. Was Voldemort alone, in that mutilated infant body? Or was he simply not human enough to show up at all?

Once Harry regained his focus, the two of them carefully approached the staircase. This was where Bill died. Long, narrow, and entirely susceptible to a stray Killing Curse. "We're attacking from on top," Hermione said. Harry agreed. They figured out which room was directly above the hiding place, and readied their spells. Harry wished he'd figured out Ollivander's enhancement device before this. This would have been the perfect time to use it.

Before the dust settled, Harry cast a strong summoning charm for any wand. One flew up to his hand- but it wasn't yew and phoenix feather. A green curse followed it, forcing Harry to dodge out of the way. The two of them hammered the area with flame spears, bludgeoners, and more bombardment spells, being careful to keep changing positions. At the fifteen second mark, the retaliatory spells stopped. They kept going for another thirty seconds to be sure.

This time, they let the smoke settle, keeping a strong _Protego_ up as they waited. It looked like there was one dead Death Eater, along with shattered pieces of a yew and phoenix wand. There was a young basilisk- dead, unable to resist all the spellfire with its young and tender hide. And most importantly, there appeared to be half of Voldemort intact. The rest looked like it got caught with one of the _bombarda_ spells. It twitched.

Both their wands pointed at the grotesque creature, but it was unnecessary. It very rapidly shriveled and blackened, as if it were being mummified in the span of seconds. A familiar, black, smoke-like spirit escaped from it. "_Yooouuu…. Potterrrrr!_" was all it managed to scream out as it flew away.

"Yeah, have fun, Voldemort. Try again in another thirteen years?" Harry shouted after it.

"Ugh. I hope not. Now, isn't there supposed to be a horcrux somewhere in this building?"

"I don't know. Hm. I think Barty Crouch was the one taking care of it. Is that him?" Harry pointed at the body on the ground. They pulled the mask back to reveal a greasy mop of hair and a large hooked nose.

"Oh, nuts."

* * *

Neither the Daily Prophet nor the Department of Magical Law Enforcement knew what to do when a large pile of bodies, some alive and some dead, were dropped into the Ministry of Magic. All of them had Death Eater robes and masks on. All of them were relatively important figures tied to the previous war. Several of them were previously acquitted under the _Imperius_ defense. One of them was supposed to have died over a decade ago. One of them had Dumbledore's personal support. Several of them were major shareholders or benefactors of the Daily Prophet.

Some thought it was a roundup of Death Eaters who got away scot-free.

Others thought it might have been the action of a new group of anti-pureblood extremists, using the Death Eater masks to make a political statement.

Cornelius Fudge's personal opinion was that it was the work of Sirius Black, cleaning up loose ends for his Dark Lord from the previous war.

But most of the masses were easily distracted by both the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament. Both the Ministry and the Prophet decided it was best to keep things quiet and direct attention away from the matter.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes: **

- I actually planned for another death in this chapter, but it was long enough already and i think everyone gets the idea.

- I might actually revisit some of the "lost time" in this chapter. Not any time soon, though.

- One thing that I don't think really got addressed well in canon is exactly _why_ the Death Eaters suddenly decided to put on their masks and assault some muggles for fun. It seemed like most of them were surprised at Voldemort's return 10 months later. Sure, the Dark Mark was getting a little darker again, but... really? Some of these people have done very well for themselves post-Voldemort. They don't need chaos (or a chance at getting arrested again). Sure, it was a nice way to warn Harry about the upcoming plotlines, but i'm sure there could have been a more reasonable explanation...


	68. Exclusion

**Author's Notes:** JKR owns the Harry Potter universe, I just play with alternate ones.

- Given the previous chapter (as well as playing a whole lot of Portal) I've always wondered how much momentum is conserved during apparition. Now, within the book series, just about everything takes place within the UK. The difference in the curvature of the Earth within the British Isles is pretty negligible, so it wouldn't really have been an issue. Also, no range limits were given on apparition, but I'm guessing it would be limited by a wizard's power. If a wizard apparated to the opposite side of the planet, what would happen? Near the equator, the ground is moving at around 1600 km/h. Teleport to the opposite side of the planet... and if momentum is conserved... you'd suddenly be moving 3200 km/h in the wrong direction. Uh oh.

* * *

**Chapter 68: Exclusion**

"But what about the other horcruxes?" Hermione whispered to Harry as they rode in the back of the third deck of the Knight Bus, protected by silencing charms and an eavesdropping ward. The vehicle was empty other than them and the driver, Stan, but it didn't hurt to be a little paranoid regarding Voldemort when he wasn't quite dead.

"We still have weekends. Heck, we could have the horcruxes all destroyed before September ends. We can take it easier now, Hermione." Harry had to admit that watching Voldemort (mostly) die again was pretty cathartic, even if the monstrous wizard wasn't totally eliminated from the world. He finally felt he could relax a little and enjoy his life, with a little recreational horcrux-hunting on the side. It might take Voldemort another thirteen years to gain a body again- or longer, since most of the freed Death Eaters were now dead. Harry finally had time to enjoy life. Or Hogwarts. Or stress-free games of Quidditch. Or his girlfriend…

"You're right! Cramming in those NEWT studies between helping you with the tournament and keeping track of the cursebreakers… it had me stressed out. Now we can properly apply ourselves to our classes!" Hermione gave Harry a kiss, and before he could react, she already had her head propped on his shoulder and held a textbook open in her lap.

_Or that, _thought Harry. He reached around with his left arm and pulled Hermione in a little closer. _I guess this isn't bad either._ For nearly the entirety of the last loop, they'd been working so hard trying to survive, it felt more like they were comrades than a couple. It didn't get much more peaceful than reading a textbook on- Harry had to scan the text a little - _theoretical lost Germanic runes_ while leaning against each other.

Until the Knight Bus suddenly pulled to a stop, that is.

"Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole!" Stan bellowed from the driver's seat, loud enough to be heard throughout the bus.

As soon as the two of them stepped off, the bus disappeared with a crack of magic, speeding off to roads unknown. Even with the long approach to the house, Harry could tell that it was busy inside. Well, between the Quidditch World Cup and getting ready for school, they would have been surprised if it wasn't. Harry felt like it was heading home again, and his heart swelled. He wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist as they walked towards the oddly-shaped home of the Weasleys. Hermione did likewise. They were ready to be surrounded by a swath of red hair.

Except that when one of the windows opened up, blonde hair came streaming through.

"Oh! Hullo, Hermione! Hullo, Harry! The no-bodies told me you would be coming, but the people in the house wouldn't believe me. Could you leave your wrackspurts at the door? We seem to be having a particularly nasty infestation at the moment." It was unmistakably Luna, but what was she doing here?

Ginny popped her head out as well- apparently, that was her room the blonde girl was occupying. She looked down at Harry for a second and stared. Harry waved at her amusingly. She gave a weak wave back and ducked into her room again, pulling Luna with her.

"Huh. I thought she'd be over it by now," Harry said. "The last time we spent the summer with the Weasleys, she was fine."

"Um… I think she might be reacting to _this,_"Hermione said, unwrapping her arm from Harry's waist. "It might get a little awkward if I have to share a room with Ginny for the next few days."

"Oh," Harry said. "_Ohhh,_" he repeated, when he realized how strong her crush was the entire time. Her shyness must have been the only thing keeping her at bay before. Ginny was fine when she thought she had a chance. Had she been trying to chat him up all those times before? He'd never really noticed. Well, it was too late to break it to her gently. But there was someone else who might take it badly as well. "How are we going to tell Ron?"

"You mean if the whole family hasn't already heard about it before we reach the front door?" Hermione asked wryly.

Sure enough, the front door burst open well before they reached the house. Long locks of blonde hair greeted them, which was quickly replaced by red as Ginny pulled her friend Luna out of the way. "Sorry… I… um… Hi Harry! And Hermione!" she said as she tried to comb her hair down with her fingers to make herself presentable as possible, despite rushing down several flights of stairs to get to the door so quickly. "I… um… how are you? I mean, uh, come on in!" she stammered out.

"Hi, Ginny. Hey, Luna," Harry waved at both of them casually.

Ginny managed to stop being shy for a second in order to express her surprise. "You know Luna? Well, she goes to Hogwarts, but she's not in Gryffindor… I didn't think the two of you had met before."

Harry was about to wave it off and tell Ginny about how they'd met, just before he caught himself. It hadn't happened yet. And technically they still hadn't met in this timeline, but here she was, being as friendly – and weird – as she usually was around them. He glanced suspiciously at Luna, who was counting the curls in Hermione's hair. Hermione was watching Luna inquisitively. Luna turned to Harry. Harry turned to Hermione. Hermione looked at Ginny and shrugged. "We ran into each other before," she said.

"Tell me about your vacation!" Luna requested cheerfully. "Did you see any strange creatures?"

"Err… no. The most I saw was a snake," Harry answered. Unless the Voldemort-homonculus counted as a strange creature. He didn't want to talk about that.

"I saw an osprey," Hermione answered, giving Harry an amused glance.

"Oh, pooey. I was hoping you could tell me about the flynocerous," Luna sighed, before Ginny started pulling her away.

"Don't mind Luna… she just likes strange animals," she said nervously. It was a little odd how embarrassed she looked. Then again, if she was trying to make a good impression on the great Harry Potter, and the Great Harry Potter was a more standard celebrity like Gilderoy Lockhart, she would have been right to do so. Luna was an oddity, but Harry liked her that way.

"Oh, we know," Hermione answered with a smile. "Where's everyone else?"

"Oh! They're playing Quidditch behind the house! I forgot to tell you!"

As it turned out, the Weasleys also had another guest- Lee Jordan. Apparently he and Luna were Harry and Hermione's substitutes for the World Cup trip. Ron was, understandably, upset that they'd both turned down his invitations. At least the World Cup itself had kept him in high spirits. The arrival of Harry and Hermione, together, left him staring. The gears in his head were working hard to crank out an explanation for turning down the greatest wizarding sporting event of a lifetime.

"Have you two been… sno-" Ron was interrupted by a quaffle smacking him in the head.

"Oi, Ronnie-boy! Pay attention!" One of the twins said.

"You're still dad's keeper, Ronniekins!" shouted the other.

"Hi Harry."

"Hey, Hermione!"

Having nothing more to say, they turned back to the game against their father, Ron… and, amazingly, Bill. The oldest Weasley son was back in Britain, looking lively as ever. It reminded Harry exactly why he would be willing to relive these years over and over to get it right. As he was staring up in awe, Bill and Ron both flew down, ending the game prematurely.

"Harry Potter? Ron's told me all about you. And you must be Hermione! William Weasley. Call me Bill." He shook each of their hands.

"What brings you back home, Bill? Last we heard you were working in Egypt," Hermione asked, with his answer in her head already.

"Well, my company got an odd request for a job here in Britain, oddly enough. Good money, even though they didn't need the whole team. We finished up in Egypt, and my boss let me take the time off since I haven't been home for _years_." Bill stretched his arms out and took in a deep breath, followed by a loud whoop. "It's good to be back."

Hermione looked at Harry with a knowing smile. Harry smiled back and chuckled quietly. "Nice to meet you, Bill! Maybe you could show me a few tricks to cursebreaking?"

Ron's imagination had been working overtime while Bill was talking, but when his two friends looked at each other, his brain ground to a halt. It didn't stop his mouth, though. "You two've been snogging each other, haven't you?" he blurted out. "That's why you didn't go to the World Cup with us!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Sure, they managed to sneak in a few cuddling sessions and maybe a date or two over the summer, but they'd been spending nearly every hour preparing for a showdown against Voldemort. Making out had been the least of their priorities for the past several months. "No, Ron, we were _actually_…"

She was cut off very quickly by Harry, who stopped her lips with his own. He held her tightly behind the neck, running his fingers through her hair and held her there until she got over the surprise, and responded in kind. "Well, there goes _my_ excuse. What were you thinking?" she whispered as they pulled apart.

"Well, I figured shock value would actually freeze Ron's brain for a while. And this is the easiest cover story we've got. I've been too busy snogging you to have been anywhere _near_ Riddle Manor…" Harry whispered back.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Ahem. As I was saying. We were _actually_… uh… just getting to know each other better…"

"Looks like it," George said. "Say, Harry, if we stuck a paintbrush to your tongue, how well do you think you could draw the inside of Hermione's mouth?"

"How about you, Hermione?" Fred grinned. "Marble bust of Harry, life-size, blindfolded. Are you up to the challenge?"

"Aw, lay off, you two," Bill laughed. "Just don't let mum catch you two sneaking out of the bedrooms at midnight," he added with a wink.

Ron, at least, was left gaping and speechless.

Harry groaned. Maybe it would have been easier to admit he killed Voldemort again.

* * *

The Burrow was oddly quiet until September 1st. With Lee staying over, Harry was afraid that the pranks would cause the house to collapse. Oddly enough, the pranking pair's brother-in-arms seemed to actually tone things down, possibly because of his fear for Molly Weasley. There were no shortage of pranks, but they were all of the minor variety.

Ginny was still shy about Harry, trying to show her best face despite her dejected mood. At least there weren't any elbows in butter dishes this time. She spent most of her time trying to keep Luna's oddity in check, and every time Harry reassured her that he was fine with it, she seemed even more embarrassed.

Ron was understandably upset at the news that Harry and Hermione were a couple, even if he did a good job holding it in. Part of it was the fact that he'd been one of the last in the household to know about it. Luna acted as if she'd known for _months_. He already knew Harry could get any woman he wanted, but the only girls that paid him any mind were his mother, and Hermione. He half-suspected his mother liked having Harry in the house more than himself, and now he knew for certain Hermione preferred the famous Boy-Who-Lived as well. Then again, Harry had to wonder when Ron actually figured out that there were girls worth fancying.

The one thing that seemed to be able to keep the peace around the Burrow was Bill. Ron and Ginny both obviously looked up to him. In fact, he could have been diverting some of Ginny's hero-worship away from Harry. And why not? He was rugged, adventurous, successful, and magically powerful. Nearly everything that the legends of the Boy-Who-Lived was supposed to be. He was also the ideal role model for Ron. Harry remembered what Ron saw in the Mirror of Erised, and Bill may as well have been what stepped out of that mirror. Perhaps his own jovial attitude helped Ron keep a level head over Harry and Hermione. Several times, it looked like he wanted to say something to the couple, but held back. The Burrow wasn't a place for privacy, after all.

They had to wait until they were finally aboard the Hogwarts Express to get their own cabin, sure that the twins were busy pranking the Slytherin students instead of them, before they could find out what was _really_ on Ron's mind.

"How long have you fancied her, Harry?" Ron finally asked.

Harry looked at Hermione, then back at Ron. "I don't rightly know," he answered. "But I feel like every moment I thought of her as 'just a friend' has been a waste. Maybe it was second year? When she got petrified?" The memory made Harry rub his hand against Hermione's soft, un-stonelike skin just to be sure. "There were other times that Hermione was just there for me, and… you weren't around." Harry was thinking of the Goblet of Fire, but obviously he couldn't mention that to Ron.

"How about you, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"I don't really know either," Hermione answered after a bit of thought. "I first learned about Harry through the books. And, well, I have to admit I had a little crush on him. But that wasn't him, it was the Boy-Who-Lived. After that, there was the troll…"

"I was a part of that too…" Ron muttered.

"Yes, but I was really mad at you at the time, and that just brought you back up to 'likeable.' And in any case, I wasn't in love with Harry _then_. It just opened up a possibility, you know? Like all those fairy tales I read. Handsome prince comes to rescue the damsel in distress. Except being a damsel wasn't fun, the prince was a little scrawny –" Harry made a face at that. "- and I was only twelve. I think… for me… it was after we helped Sirius escape. It was odd, really. The danger had already passed, Sirius was free, but I still felt like Harry was protecting me when we were riding Buckbeak. It was just… reassuring to hold on to him." She let her arm slide behind Harry to grasp him a little tighter.

"Is that what it's supposed to feel like?" Ron asked. "I can't imagine thinking about that while snogging someone."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not about the snogging, Ron. That just means you haven't fallen in love with anyone yet."

"Yeah, yeah… fine. Just as long as you don't do it around me," Ron said, crossing his arms and leaning onto the window. He gazed at the passing countryside silently for a while. "Say… Harry. If you had to choose between me or Hermione…"

Harry closed his eyes. He was worried about this question. Naturally, he'd choose Hermione in a heartbeat… if this was the same Ron that ditched him during the Triwizard Tournament. But he wanted to give _this_ Ron a fair chance, and forget about the jerk from timelines past. "Don't make me choose, Ron, and it won't ever be an issue."

"Yeah, but…"

"Don't make me choose," Harry repeated firmly. "We're friends. We should stick together."

* * *

The welcoming feast brought many surprises to the table, even after having experienced it multiple times. First, the shepherd's pie was made with ham instead of lamb. An odd, but tasty choice. Secondly, there was clearly far more going on this year than just the Triwizard Tournament.

"Now that you've all filled your stomachs enough that they won't be louder than I am, I should begin the announcements," Dumbledore announced to a sea of uninterested students. "And I shall finish before you're all so full that the food starts coming out of your ears."

"First, I'd like to announce two new staff members." He gestured to his right, and the most average man in the world stood up beside him. "First, as you may have expected, we have found a new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Edward Hewer has been recommended to us by the Ministry of Magic." There was the tiniest hint of disappointment in Dumbledore's voice when he was saying _recommended_. Harry wondered what he really meant.

When the new professor stood up,_ generic_ was description Harry could come up with the man. It was difficult to go into much more detail than that. His slim build and clean-shaven face could have belonged to someone as young as twenty or as old as fifty. His tanned skin could have meant he was a Briton who spent a lot of time in the sun, or an Indian who stayed indoors. There were no particular facial features worth noting, either. He seemed almost impossibly _average. _The more Harry stared at him, the less he seemed to know about him. In fact, the more he concentrated on the man, the more the feeling of incredible boredom crept up in the back of his mind.

He was, in a sense, the polar opposite of Professor Lockhart. Where that man had thrown himself into the spotlight, it seemed like he repelled attention. He could have walked through the Quidditch pitch during the middle of the World Cup and nobody would notice. When he spoke, almost nobody listened.

"You may call me Professor Hewer. I have been sent from the Ministry of Magic to ensure the security of Hogwarts Castle. In the meantime, I will also teach you Defense of the Dark Arts." There really wasn't any point in lengthening his speech, as all the students were busy wolfing down their food. Even half the staff members seemed to be in a daze. Dumbledore was the only one who began to clap after Professor Hewer sat down. The rest of the hall began to clap on the headmaster's cue, not even realizing what they were clapping for. Hewer ignored the delayed applause.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, using the muffling charm for a bit of privacy, "Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?" Harry asked.

"Just… something in the back of my mind. It's like a muggle-repelling charm, except I'm not a muggle."

"I did!" Harry suddenly perked up. "Like I should have ignored… something…"

"Exactly! I can't remember what I was supposed to be ignoring, though."

They both turned their attention back to the headmaster, who was introducing _another_ new professor. "You may not remember him, but a few of your parents might. Professor Horace Slughorn has graciously agreed to return to Hogwarts as our Potions professor while Professor Snape takes an indefinite leave of absence."

_Way to break the news, Dumbledore,_ Harry thought.

Dumbledore continued. "He will be taking on all of Professor Snape's former duties, not only teaching Potions classes but also the duties as Head of Slytherin House. Professor Slughorn, if you will?"

Harry couldn't help but gape. _This_ man was going to be the head of Slytherin? He was the exact opposite of Snape already. Snape was easily one of the youngest professors of Hogwarts; Slughorn was rivalling McGonagall in age. Snape had a permanent scowl hidden by a mop of greasy hair; Slughorn was cheerfully smiling as the light reflected off his bald head. Lastly, while Snape never gave up a chance to sneer at Harry, Slughorn's grin grew wider when his eyes found Harry at the Gryffindor table.

"I'd like to start off by saying how wonderful it is being at Hogwarts again! I've enjoyed my retirement, but just as soon as my days started to get a little repetitive, Professor Dumbledore comes by and tells me I should teach again! With so many bright, talented young faces here, how could I say no? Now, mind you, I'm a big fan of parties- so if you do well enough in your classes, you just might get invited to the _Slug Club!_" There was a shocked silence after his short speech before anyone remembered to clap. Then the clapping grew louder and louder.

This was when Harry learned that the Weasley twins could sing. Not very well, mind you, but at least they tried. When the concept of living Snape-free finally sank in (and making sure they weren't dreaming), they immediately conjured streamers, confetti, and a banner with the image of professor Snape wearing Neville's grandmother's outfit, and followed up by belting out a horrible rendition of _Ding Dong the Wizard's Dead!_

They only managed to get a few lines in before the professors dispelled the banner and silenced the twins, but the damage had been done. Three-quarters of the school were whooping and cheering along with the twins, who were being carted off to detention already.

"I thank misters Fred and George Weasley for supplying us with tonight's entertainment! Now I can save the pixies for next year," Dumbledore joked. "Now, for those of you who have read the Daily Prophet last month, you may have heard the rumours. The rumours are true- the Triwizard Tournament will be revived this year, and Hogwarts will be the hosting school!"

The entire hall exploded with more chatter while Dumbledore finished explaining the rules, events, and prizes. Ron turned to Harry and Hermione, excitement beaming from his eyes. "Guys, this is amazing! Snape is gone and Slughorn seems to be a decent bloke, Percy's finally left Hogwarts, and the Triwizard's happening right at our school! A thousand galleon prize! This is going to be the best year ever!"

"…and due to the usage of the Quidditch stadium for multiple events within the tournament, all Quidditch has been cancelled this year," Dumbledore finished.

Ron's smile instantly disappeared. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

"Wait, where are you going, Harry?" Ron asked. It was only the first week of school, and there was almost no homework to do. He was hoping to catch up on some chess, or exploding snaps, or even just trading chocolate frog cards with his best friend.

"Err… Professor Slughorn called for a meeting. He gave me an invitation to the 'Slug Club' and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer," Harry replied.

Ultimately, it had been impossible not to get the attention of Professor Slughorn. If Harry and Hermione wanted to actually learn something new this year at Hogwarts, they had to prove they could handle NEWT courses. And naturally, breezing through every mock OWL exam (other than Divination or Care of Magical Creatures) caught the attention of many professors- all of whom _insisted_ they join Professor Slughorn's "Slug Club." Professor Sinistra had apparently been a member herself, years ago. She practically made her NEWT lessons conditional on attending at least one with Slughorn.

"Right, then," Ron said, his voice laced with disappointment. "I suppose if you got invited, Hermione's going too?"

"Yes, I am. Sorry, Ron. It runs pretty late, so don't wait up for us," Hermione said as she descended the stairs from the girls' dorms.

"Well, I guess we'll have some time after divination tomorrow to bum around."

"Err… about that…" Harry started, but Hermione pulled him away.

"I think you should break that to him slowly… maybe while he's eating so he'll be a little distracted," she suggested.

Harry nodded in agreement. "I'll tell you about it tomorrow morning, Ron."

Deep down in the bowels of Hogwarts, Slughorn had managed to decorate one of the dungeons quite nicely. It was bright, cheerful, and inviting- it felt more like an earthly Hufflepuff chamber than a dank Slytherin dungeon. Thankfully, not too many Slytherins were even present. In his year, he only recognized Blaise Zabini. Neither Draco nor any of his goonies had made the cut, thankfully. There were an assortment of Quidditch players, including both Cedric and Cho Chang.

There was an easy common element to everyone there: they were destined for success. Not guaranteed success, of course, but certainly on course for it. Everyone present was near the top of their year in grades, came from influential families, or was good enough at Quidditch to have a shot at the professional leagues. It was the perfect event for social climbers- even though only the few Slytherins present would have given it much thought at that point in their lives.

Harry Potter, who showed signs of all three, seemed to be the main attraction for the night. He was guaranteed to be a success whether he liked it or not, so everyone's job was to cozy up to him. He was forced to meet and greet everyone, reaffirming his distaste for fame. At the same time, everyone else who had figured out the purpose of the meetings felt completely overshadowed by Harry.

Seeing the enthusiasm die down made Slughorn dig a little deeper for motivation. He pulled out several pictures of old Slug Club portraits.

"Anyone recognize her? Yes, Gwenog Jones, captain of the Harpies! We still keep in touch from time to time," Slughorn explained. "I get free tickets to their games on occasion."

"Oh, and here's Florence Perry! Former Ministry Head of Magical Transportation. Of course, I helped Gwenog get in touch with her, pulled a few strings, and now Gwenog's got herself a special license to fly high-speed brooms. It's a win-win for everybody if we all help each other out."

While everyone agreed with the premise logically, it was still difficult to feel motivated. Or move past the awkward first impressions. Slughorn continued.

"Now that we're hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year, you all have an opportunity that few other Slug Clubs in the past had. International students! Not only that, but you will be meeting the best and the brightest from each of the schools. I have no doubt that one of you could easily be this year's champion. Don't get caught up in cheering for your own champion, though- make sure you talk to the other students. Who knows, you might be meeting the future French Minister for Magic! Now, let's all practice a few greetings in French and Bulgarian…"

* * *

Sufficed to say, neither Harry nor Hermione were keen on going to the next Slug Club meeting. It was scheduled for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, so they used that as an excuse. After all, what new couple could resist a visit to Madam Puddifoot's?

In reality, they were going to sneak away from the crowds to go horcrux-hunting. But nobody needed to know about _that_.

"Harry! You've got permission to go to Hogsmeade this year, right? And you said you were skipping out on the Slug Club thing…" Ron asked excitedly. He'd taken the news that Harry would drop divination pretty well, and like his friends, he decided to drop the class himself. Since he definitely didn't want arithmancy or ancient runes, he switched over to muggle studies at Hermione's insistence. Harry wasn't sure how he would handle being told that he would no longer share _any _classes by the next week.

"Yeah, but… I wanted to spend the day with Hermione. Sorry, Ron."

"Together? But you've got broom closets for that any day of the week!"

Hermione let out another one of her exasperated sighs reserved for Ron. "Broom closets are _not_ a foundation for a healthy relationship," she stated flatly.

"Come on, Harry. We're best mates, right? We can find something at Zonko's and Honeyduke's for an hour before the two of you do… whatever."

"Sorry, Ron… we've already got the whole day planned out. Maybe next time," Harry answered. They didn't actually need the entire day, but for their plan to work, they had to get to Hogsmeade early for several reasons. They didn't want anyone to see them sneak off, nor hear the distinct crack of apparition. They also wore their basilisk armour underneath their robes; somebody with a keen eye would notice. Lastly, it was rather dangerous to be walking around in a crowded area with a basilisk fang loaded up with venom, no matter how well-wrapped it was.

So while most of the others were still taking a lazy stroll down to the small town, Harry and Hermione rushed down there like lovebirds eager to share a tea and cupcakes together. They then proceeded to disillusion themselves and apparate to the most unromantic place in Britain.

The memory that Harry had acquired from Voldemort already told him it was it was a messy, mossy, shack covered in overgrown foliage, hidden behind prickly briars and crooked branches. That memory, however, was still decades out of date. The last time Voldemort ever visited his grandfather's home was around Grindelwald's reign of terror to hide the horcrux here. Now, it was certainly messy and overgrown, but rotting leaves and branches hid the shack from sight while mold and mildew hid the path leading up to it.

From the cursebreakers' notes they'd memorized, there were plenty of traps to be found. Trees would restrain intruders, vines would choke them to death, while the inferi bodies of Morfin and Marvolo Gaunt would consume the evidence. A cursed pathway directed visitors to their doom, and the interior of the shack was filled with a poisonous miasma. This was even before they could find the horcrux itself. What the notes didn't detail was how difficult it was to find the triggering runes and the binding stones for the curses.

The shack was quite close to the Riddle Manor, but the two of them apparated far away to approach from the opposite side through the forest to avoid being seen. Over the past few weeks the location had been scoured by aurors; even now there was still the risk of somebody else looking into the deaths of multiple prominent purebloods. A half-hour hike through the thick brush brought them to the first of many traps protecting the shack.

"Found an anchor stone," Hermione piped up. "I think it might be based on a triquetra pattern. Can you find the other two while I work on decomposing this one?" It only took five minutes to disable that trap.

The next one nearly caught them off-guard, and it was mostly a stroke of luck that caught it. Hermione thought she had completely deactivated a simple trap, but Harry caught the sound of a very quiet hissing and recognized it as parseltongue. Within seconds, a dozen artificial snakes formed from the wood and vines and surrounded them. Harry ordered all of them to disperse without incident.

Trap after trap, they proceeded carefully and disarmed. Other than the parseltongue trap, there really wasn't anything particularly special about them. It seemed like almost all the traps, as carefully crafted as they were, could have been done by a single very smart seventh-year Hogwarts student- in essence, someone at Hermione's level. Nothing that required, blood sacrifices, rare gemstones from Australia, or seventeen simultaneous enchantments to perform- all just basic curses, runes, and smart application of arithmancy. The sheer number of protections was the only thing slowing their progress.

It took them until noon to actually get past the doorway. Bubble-head charms took care of the toxic air and two powerful blasting charms destroyed the re-animated remains of Morfin and Marvolo Gaunt. The inside of the home wasn't much better than the outside- even without the poison and inferi, it was infested with all sorts of insects, reeked of decomposition. The two of them tore apart the floorboards to find a small, locked box layered with plenty more protections. Even through the container, Harry could feel the influence of the horcrux.

The protections on the box were relatively simple. Flesh-eating charms activated by touch. Compulsion charms triggered by cracking open the lock. A standard set of unbreakable and everlasting charms to prevent the box itself from succumbing to the elements. The box itself took no more than ten minutes to neutralize. Hermione stood back as Harry opened the box.

As far as Harry was concerned, inside the box lay the most beautiful ring he'd ever seen.

_Take me_.

What could a ring do for him, though? It was just decoration. He had more than enough money.

_Take her._

Hermione! By Merlin's beard, he loved her. He wanted to propose to her one day.

_Now._

Now? Why not now? A bloody perfect ring sat in front of him, she was standing two steps away, and they were alone. This was the perfect time to propose…

_Take me wear me hold me make me yours make her yours make the world yours_

"Harry!" Harry felt himself being pulled across the room and dropped the box in surprise. Hermione grabbed him by the head and focused her eyes on his. "Harry? Harry… can you feel it? Can you focus? Get it out of your head!"

"Did I just do what I think I did?" Harry asked, shaking his head. The force of Hermione's spell as well as the distance from the box gave him a newfound clarity. He concentrated on his occlumency to purge his mind of foreign invaders. From here, another careful look at the ring revealed that it was possibly the most plain ring in existence. The gemstone on top of it wasn't even a gem; it was just some sort of rock. "That thing was more powerful than the diadem. I wasn't just hearing suggestions, I was hallucinating."

"I can even feel it tug at my mind from this distance," Hermione confirmed. "This is going to be a problem. It's protected from basic magic. That's why I had to summon you instead of banishing it."

"Thanks. Let's get this finished quick before my brain turns to mush," Harry said. "Stop me if I do anything stupid again." He put on thick dragonhide gloves and pulled out the basilisk fang from his pouch. He could feel the ring try to get into his mind again.

_Wear me Hold me_

"No, you stupid ring," Harry said, gritting his teeth. He held the ring down to the ground with two fingers and carefully tried to place the fang tip somewhere he could stab. Such a tiny object didn't provide a lot of stabbing area, and it was taking him longer than he thought he would.

_Don't you love me, Harry? Why don't you prove it?_ Hermione appeared in front of him, holding out her ring finger expectantly.

"Harry! You're hesitating!" the real Hermione shouted from behind him. Harry looked back, cleared his mind again, and repositioned the fang. Finally, he managed to put the fang in a notch beneath the ring's stone and put his weight on it. The venom chewed through the ring's protections while the bony fang crushed the silver band, breaking the stone from the ring. It let out an inhuman screech and black, ethereal smoke seeped out.

"Well, that's taken care of," Harry said, wiping his brow. "Let's get out of here."

"Agreed. I think I've had enough of horcruxes… at least, until next Hogsmeade weekend," Hermione said. "Let's just get some food and relax in the Room of Requirement."

It had been a tiring day, and the suggestion sounded wonderful. He did, however, have an urge to stay in Hogsmeade for a little longer and browse the local jeweller's shop…

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- I've had to give a bit of thought as to how much of the 'canon' timeline that Harry actually experienced. Having a time machine really messes things up. Sufficed to say, for various reasons, this is actually the first time they've met Slughorn. Now, he was reluctant to come back to teach in canon without personally meeting Harry, but things are different for several reasons. No Death Eater attacks for one thing. And he's _always_ wanted to know Harry on a personal level. Lastly- Triwizard tournament. What better time than that to meet up with the greatest wizards and witches of a generation from three countries, all under one roof? Even in canon, I think the 4th book would have actually been the ideal time for Slughorn to return to Hogwarts.

- Secondly, about Ron. I've realized I've come to a point in the story where I'd end up leaving out Ron, not because he's being a jackass like in canon, but simply because Harry and Hermione have now experienced so much without him that they can't consider him a close friend any more. Even if he smartens up and keeps his emotions in check, he still won't have much of a chance to turn this into a time-travelling trio. Of course, this also has the same implication for _anyone else_ they would want to have as a close friend... gonna have to give this more thought.


	69. All Eyes On Us

**Author's Notes: **JK Rowling has written under a pseudonym before. That pseudonym is not willyolioleo.

- No, I'm not abandoning this fic... but every time I think I have time to write, life... uh... finds a way. To keep me busy.

* * *

**Chapter 69: All Eyes On Us**

"I don't believe this. You're saying you _knew_ Voldemort was returning?" Moody was so surprised that his fake eye was fixed on Dumbledore instead of roving for eavesdroppers.

"Yes. Severus was my source. He witnessed Voldemort's presence personally," Dumbledore said. "I sent him there on some suspicions regarding the Dark Mark. He wasn't eager to go, but in the end, he agreed."

"Merlin knows that man was never had the temperament for being a teacher. Hell, I could probably do a better job than he did. " Moody stopped to ponder his own remark, and scoffed at the thought. "So that's why you kept that greasy little snake around. Tell me he at least did a decent job of spying."

"One of the best I had," Dumbledore sighed. "Severus was attempting to redeem himself for some youthful mistakes. I don't know if he earned the redemption he needed that day."

"Well, according to our intrepid slayer of dark lords, the man earned himself a dozen flame spears and several blasting hexes. There was barely enough of him left over to identify," Moody added. "And there was only one place in the mansion he could have been standing to have been struck down like that."

It was rare to have Dumbledore nearly silent and hanging on your every word. Moody continued. "There was a saferoom. The attackers knew it was a saferoom, and knew that the Voldemort was inside. Snape must have been inside as well," Moody said. "Seems to me he must have carried the homunculus body to safety while everyone else was fighting. Why didn't he escape instead?"

"That is a question I cannot answer," Dumbledore said, sighing heavily. "Perhaps he thought the attack would be unsuccessful, and did it to earn some trust. With most of Voldemort's followers dead from the assault, he would be guaranteed a place among the inner circle of followers. That would place Voldemort's secrets and plans entirely within my grasp. I could predict his every movement with that much information."

"Yeah, but it's easier to predict the dead. They don't move at all," Moody retorted. "Should have just tossed that abomination into the line of fire like a burning bludger. Face it, Albus. You're making excuses."

"When they need to know. Unfortunately, Severus never had many close friends among the staff, either. If they took it upon themselves to investigate further, it would sully his memory to be found among murdered Death Eaters. It's better to keep this as quiet as possible for now, wouldn't you agree? Tell me what other discoveries you made."

"Entry must have been from the top floor. Not apparition or portkey. Must have been either a broom or fumation; my bet's on the former. The majority of spellfire seemed to be directed upwards," Moody said, recalling details that only his magical eye could have seen. "The spells that had been shot upwards left a distinctly different path through the floorboards as the ones that had hammered the safe room- they were clearly cast by two different groups of people. The attackers were either underpowered or undermanned. What they lacked in pure strength they must have made up for with training, good tactics, and surprise."

"Underpowered? By how much, can you tell?"

"Hard to say. It's a judgement call, in any case. Two things led me to that conclusion- they aimed to maim, not to kill. Injured opponents are a good distraction. Screams are demoralizing. Like I said, good tactics," Moody grinned ferally. He imagined himself in the fight. He probably would have made the same choices if he were working alone. "The second thing is that they made sure to cripple the opponents who were already down. Made sure they couldn't fight even if they woke up or found a wand laying about. Good idea if you don't have enough manpower to watch prisoners."

"How many in total?" Dumbledore asked.

"They hauled in over a dozen Death Eaters alive, and quite a few more dead. I'd wager a force of three or four could have done it, depending on… other factors." Moody began to dig through his pouches.

"Other factors?"

"Like this," Moody said, pulling something out of his pouch. "Aurors missed it in their investigation. Doubt they'd know what it was even if they found it. At best it would end up stuck in some back room in the Department of Mysteries. I was thinking you could shed some light on it?" He held up his hand, which appeared to be empty at first glance. Only through the subtle movement of his fingers did Dumbledore see a nearly-invisible piece of cloth. "It's obviously part of an invisibility cloak, but unlike anything I've seen before. Even as a fragment it's got better concealment than a brand-new cloak."

The headmaster carefully plucked the fabric from Moody's hand and set it on his desk. He'd recognized it instantly. After all, it came from a cloak he'd studied for a decade before returning it to its rightful owner.

* * *

Contrary to the students' impressions, Slughorn didn't only hold Slug Club meetings for students. He knew his own limitations on his ability to help his club members succeed if their talents lay outside his own realm of expertise. Most of the staff members were present- at least, those that Slughorn considered worth their salt in teaching ability. Notably absent were Hagrid – Slughorn had heard many complaints about the half-giant from his own students; Trelawney – as she said herself, you either had the inner eye or you didn't; and Burbage – Slughorn had learned enough about the muggle world from various Slug Club members to know the Muggle Studies professor would be of no help to anyone.

"This tea really is quite good, Horace," Vector said, sipping lightly as she leaned back in her chair. "Haven't tasted anything like it."

"Courtesy of one of the former Slug Club members," Slughorn answered. "Exchange student from India, about twenty years ago. A little before your time here, Septima. His family owns a mystic tea plantation; and he sends me the results of his breeding experiments each year. This one is supposed to stimulate the mind, camaraderie, and the leaves improve accuracy in divination readings for lost pets. Never did put much weight on the last one."

"I wouldn't either. And the bannock?" McGonagall asked.

"Err… that's just from the Hogwarts house-elves," Slughorn told her.

"You're joking. I've been at this school longer than you have, Horace! They've never made them like _this_ for me!"

"It may or may not have involved a little bribery involving butterbeer…" Slughorn said with a grin. McGonagall threw him a disapproving smirk, but grabbed another piece anyway.

"Sufficed to say, we have enough good food here to least the whole evening. So what do you want us to do to get you into Potter and Granger's good graces?" Professor Babbling asked. She never did have an easy time keeping her lips from showing the world what was on her mind.

"Now, now, we're not playing favourites," Slughorn reassured everyone. "You know I have the Slug Club for exceptional students, I need all your help to figure out how to make them thrive! Ordinary lessons would only hold such students back."

"Charity's right. Crude, but right. Harry and Hermione may as well be the next Merlin and Morgana. No offense, Filius, but not even any of your eagles hold a candle to those two," Professor Sprout said to her Ravenclaw counterpart. "You've only got a year with them, and by all rights they'll achieve great things whether or not you're a part of their lives."

"Now the question is how this happened at all," Flitwick said as he stared at his tea, stirring it hypnotically. "Did something… strange happen to them over the summer, or have they simply been holding back all along? Minerva, could you shed some light for us? Both of them _are_ lions, after all."

"I'm afraid I'm in the dark as much as anyone else. Both of them claimed to have been tutored over the summer by a _very_ secretive instructor, who wishes to be anonymous, who have been giving them extra lessons since after their first year."

"How can a _tutor_ make any money by remaining anonymous? He'd never find more students!" Slughorn wondered aloud.

"That's their story, and they're sticking to it. I'm more worried if their instructor has any penchant for the Dark Arts. Even the best tutors in the world couldn't expect these levels of improvement _legitimately_," McGonagall sighed. "All this secrecy... it's unnerving. I'm doubting I ever got a straight answer out of them. Three years ago, with the troll- "

"You mean when Miss Granger decided to go troll-hunting?" Flitwick recalled, for Slughorn's benefit.

"Yes, and is valiantly saved by Mr. Potter and the youngest Mr. Weasley," Babbling finished for him.

"That incident. I'm more certain than ever that the story is a lie. What the truth is, I couldn't even guess at," McGonagall told them. "Two years ago, with the basilisk- a girl kidnapped. She was a Gryffindor by the way, and the thought of alerting me didn't even cross Potter's mind. He can't be _that_ dimwitted, despite what Severus said about him. I'm sure we never received the _real_ story behind that one, either. And after that incident with Lockhart, I doubt we ever will. His… _unique_ Hogwarts experience has not given Mr. Potter much appreciation for the staff. Severus wasn't much help, either."

"Well, that certainly has to change, doesn't it?" Slughorn proclaimed. "The two of them can't go through life alone, and a little networking could help them even more! We just have to find out what their interests actually are. For example- the twin pranksters? They may be delinquents, but they're hardly procrastinators. Their potions work is simply marvellous! In fact, I've been giving them a little advice through the Slug Club, connecting them to some old former members, and I'm certain they could have a legitimate business that could rival Zonko's before they leave Hogwarts! It's the same with Harry and Hermione- you've just got to find out what their passion is!"

"I'm sorry, did you just say that you've been _helping_ the two great pranksters of Hogwarts?" McGonagall sputtered out with an incredulous look. "I'm the one who has to deal with them every time they're caught. It's no wonder that the walls haven't been the same colour for more than two days straight."

"This is exactly why I called this meeting. We shouldn't be looking to punish these children, we should just be… redirecting their efforts towards more productive uses. I'm sure the twins will tone down their act by Halloween, when they'll be much, much more busy trying to create products for their upcoming business."

"And how does this relate to Harry and Hermione?"

"Well, other than being exceptional students, what do they _want_?" Slughorn asked. Most of the professors turned to McGonagall.

"Other than being exceptional at Quidditch, I think Harry's simply searching for his place in the world. And I'm not even sure if he truly loves Quidditch- I admit I took advantage of him in placing him on the team in his first year, and he's too reserved to admit that he'd want to quit the team if that was what he truly felt."

"Don't worry, Minerva," Vector reassured her. "At the very least, Harry's very keen on flying- he designed, and built, a broom like I've never seen in a week, told me it wasn't even his best work, then ran me through the arithmancy of his _fourth_ design. Flying is very much a passion of his."

"Good, good! Flying is a good place to start. I'll have to invite Madam Hooch to our next meeting. What else?"

"Well, when he needed to prove he could keep up in NEWT-level Ancient Runes, he showed me a different project altogether. He's taking advantage of the Rin-Kaleid Effect of magical energy storage to recreate the Elder Wand… I think," Babbling added.

"The Elder Wand's just a legend," scoffed Flitwick. "Back in the day, I couldn't go to a single duelling tournament without half the participants searching for, or using, what they claimed was the Elder Wand. It doesn't exist."

"Which could be why Potter's trying to build his own. His theory is sound, to say the least, which is why I accepted him into my class. Right now he's trying to solve the problem of etching runes onto a diamond without destroying its kaleidic properties," Babbling replied.

"Diamond? Etching? Good luck finding something that can scratch diamond reliably," Flitwick remarked.

"Yes, that _is_ one of the more difficult issues."

"Not to mention the size. You'd need one that's marble-sized to truly take advantage of the effect…"

"Snitch-sized is the eventual goal. That's the… other difficult issue."

Tea was spat from various mouths around the table.

"Horace. Are you certain you _want_ to be a close confidant to Mr. Potter? You could end up bankrupting yourself in the process."

"I'll… I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. I might… know some people. Sufficed to say, if he's interested in duelling and flying, he's the adventurous sort. We'll work from there," Slughorn said, making mental notes for himself. Perhaps cursebreaking would be up Potter's alley. "How about Miss Granger then?"

"Hermione? Well, no mystery there, she loves to learn. I may have misjudged her propensity for it, but the drive is there, without a doubt," McGonagall answered. "Second only to her loyalty to Harry. I remember last year when she risked her friendship by taking a anonymously gifted broom from Harry and showing it to me. They got into a row over that, but they resolved it by the time I gave the broom back. It seemed to me that their friend Ron was more upset about it than Harry was."

"She's very much a natural leader. She likes to try to teach the other students in her class when she learns a charm," Flitwick said. "…as much as the recipients dislike her efforts," he added.

"No, that's not exactly right. She isn't one to take charge as often, at least, not compared to Potter. She's much more suited as a… director, or manager. I can't imagine her in politics, or leading a student revolt…" Sprout answered.

"What's there to revolt against in Hogwarts, now that Severus is gone? House elves? Madam Pince's unfair library hours?" Professor Vector laughed. "She and Potter work well together. If you think Potter's inventions are amazing, wait until I show you what she's created…"

"Well, they certainly make a good couple. You might just be a third wheel if you try to get close to either of them," Sprout warned Slughorn.

"Wait, they're a couple already?" Professor Sinistra blurted out, slightly surprised. When everyone else nodded and stared, she explained, "I just lost twelve sickles to the Weasley twins."

"Eight here," Professor Flitwick answered.

"Five," Sprout said.

"Bloody hell, I lost an entire galleon to those two," McGonagall muttered.

"Am I the only one who didn't place a bet?" Professor Vector asked.

"Well, I obviously wasn't here when all the betting began. And the twins never told me about their betting rings, either. Is this how they were funding their products?" Slughorn replied. "Moving on- I think I have an idea to put them on the right track. Since the Triwizard Tournament's coming up-"

"You can't possibly be thinking of entering their names in," McGonagall said, slapping her hand on the table. "They may be as advanced as seventh years, but they really are only fourteen and fifteen right now!"

"No, no. That's not it at all. You see, Professor Dumbledore's plan for greeting Beauxbatons and Durmstrang involve little more than standing around on the grass and clapping. I propose we let our top students give a little… welcoming performance. It'll be the perfect chance for them to show off their skills, and raise some school pride for the Hogwarts champion..."

* * *

After the endless practice and rehearsal sessions for the greeting ceremonies, Harry was glad to be back in a nice, quiet classroom again. Unfortunately, the boredom was driving him as crazy as the chaos had before. DADA had never been this dull, and Harry found himself dreading the boredom more than he'd ever feared the danger. Quirrell may or may not have been faking his fear of vampires; either way, as a first-year student new to the magical world, Harry the lessons riveting. Lockhart had been wholly incompetent, but his incompetence was what kept Harry awake during the class. Remus was quite a competent teacher; Harry was sad to see him go. And Moody had been… Barty.

"Alright, class. Can anyone tell me the greatest tool you have in the defense against the dark arts?" Hewer had a droning quality to his voice much like Professor Binns. Most of the class was asleep, but like the ghostly professor, he made no attempt to keep them attentive.

"Anyone? Anyone? Malcolm?"

Sandra Malcolm was one of the few still paying attention. Reluctantly, she answered, "Your wand?"

"No. Anyone else? Anyone? York? York? What is the greatest tool you have in the defense against the dark arts? York?"

"A shield charm," she mumbled out, mostly to get him to stop repeating her name.

"No. How about another? Somebody?"

_Oh dear Merlin, is he going to go through this entire class like this?_ Harry thought as he dropped his head into his desk. Anything would have been more productive than letting his brain rot in this classroom. Heck, give him Lockhart again. Even that man's flamboyant blunders forced Harry to think on the spot.

He looked over at Hermione. His ever-attentive girlfriend was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She rarely let that happen- despite the most monotonous lectures in History of Magic, she took useful notes in class. Despite despising divination, Hermione diligently took notes there, too- until she dropped the class, of course. This was the first time he'd seen her actually bored to sleep by education. She turned to face him, and mouthed out something silently. Harry didn't realize what she was saying. His brain felt like it was partially shut down.

"…Potter? Potter? Potter? Potter?" Hewer's voice finally reached him like a distant alarm clock that he couldn't turn off. "What is the greatest tool-"

_We're still on that question?_ Harry thought. _I wonder how many others have tried answering._ "A plan," he answered. Hopefully it was vague enough for the professor to accept it.

"Hmm… I guess that's close enough. Your brain is your best defense, class." He paused- nobody in the room moved. The few that were awake were hoping he'd finally continue with the lesson, and the rest were asleep. The awkward silence continued as everyone continued to stare, sleep, or pretend to sleep. "I recommend taking notes."

_Seriously? You've spent the last hour in order to tell us ONE thing,_ Harry thought irritably. He didn't bother pulling out a quill.

"For example. Let's pretend you are picked for the Triwizard tournament. You are now facing a dragon… a common Welsh Green..."

Harry already knew what he'd do against a dragon. Run. Unless, of course, he had several week's preparation- he'd get something more reliable than an enhanced crossbow, and pack a few extra brooms to boot. He could see himself swooping over the dragon's back again, arcing around its neck, dodging its flames, all to get at that stupid egg around its neck.

"Good work, Potter. I can see you're already visualizing dragon combat. Although, I'd never recommend using a broom against a dragon. Alright, everybody. Let's _all_ begin visualizing! _Imagine_ the dragon in front of you. See how it will play out in your mind. _Think _of the possible situations. That way you can end the fight before it even begins! With the power of your minds, you can accomplish anything, even defeating a dragon!"

_He wanted us to take notes on cliché catchphrases. Great._ Harry mentally gave a snort of disgust. Outwardly, he just sank his head further into his arms on his desk. _Maybe I'll just use this time to visualize how I'm going to destroy that last horcrux._

* * *

"Still can't believe he roped us into this," Harry muttered as he mounted his broom.

"I'm surprised nobody else fought for the role. Everyone else is far more excited about the whole tournament than the two of us," Hermione replied as she strapped a smoke-blower to Harry's broom.

"That's because everyone wants the fun and fame but nobody wants to do the hard parts," Harry sighed. "You'd think Slughorn would at least have taken on your job."

"No, he wants to sit back and enjoy the whole thing from the comfort of the staff seats, so I've been left to direct everything. Harry, omni check."

"Check, check, it's working fine," Harry casually responded. "And I have to say, these ones are much more comfortable to wear than your first version."

"Thank you, Harry. I figure if James Bond could squeeze everything into a wristwatch, I could fit things into a smaller earpiece with magic. Cedric, omni check!"

"_Hearing you loud and clear, Hermione_," came the response.

"Roger, omni check."

"_Wait, wait, how does this thing work? Are you hearing me right now?"_

"Yes, I hear you just fine. Don't talk too much. Daphne, omni check."

"_It's working._"

"Alright everybody, get to your places!" Hermione ordered. "Durmstrang's due to arrive first in about ten minutes!"

Right on time, the Durmstrang ship broke through the surface of the Black Lake. From his vantage point high above, Harry could see a torrent of water spill from the upper decks and drain into the lake, while several unlucky students were manning their posts on the deck. The ship may have had magic to let them breathe underwater, but it certainly did nothing for the cold or the wetness. Nevertheless, they worked quickly to unfurl the sails immediately, proudly displaying the double-headed eagle of the Durmstrang Institute. Within minutes, they had steered and docked the massive ship.

"_Charms team, keep that dock warm and dry! Flight team, it's your time to shine!"_ Hermione gave the order through the magical microphones.

Harry's job came into play immediately, as he led the flight team on a low approach, trailing coloured smoke behind their brooms. They raced from the entrance of the castle all the way to the entrance of the ship, where they all broke off in separate directions. The charms team triggered the smoke's special effect, creating a whirlwind of colour that transfigured the trail of smoke into a long, red carpet. The transfiguration effect zipped down the trail laid by the fliers like a spark down a fuse, ending at the Durmstrang ship just in time for their headmaster to step out of the ship's hatch.

"_Rider team, your turn! Remember, Durmstrang values power! Stand tall and proud, and put a little extra 'oomph' into your spells than you normally should."_ Harry heard Hermione shout orders through the omnis.

To some, it appeared that four pairs of students were floating through the air unaided. To others, they were riding fearsome winged horses. By the looks of the Durmstrang students, it appeared that most of them knew what was going on. The thestral-mounted students landed beside the red carpet, holding their wands aloft, each pair shooting out a continuous stream of their house mascots. Blue eagles, red lions, green snakes, and yellow badgers flew, leapt, slithered and scurried through the air, forming a canopy of light for the Durmstrang students to walk under. The eight students were chosen for their endurance, but it would still be difficult to sustain the spell for the entire Durmstrang party to pass through.

"_Harry, you're up again. Is everyone else ready?"_

While the rest of the flight team only needed to lay down coloured smoke (which would be turned into a floating Hogwarts coat of arms by the charms team), he had the additional work of skywriting. The message was simple, merely "HOGWARTS WELCOMES DURMSTRANG," but nobody could pull off the manoeuvres necessary with a regular broom- not even Harry's Firebolt. The proposal had nearly died then, but it was soon discovered that Harry's duster (Mk. IV) was up to task- but nobody other than Harry was willing to ride _that_ contraption.

"Let's do it," responded Harry. The four of them took to the skies above the castle and laid down the special smoke again. He eyed a few notable students on the carpet- Krum was obviously right beside Karkaroff, surrounded by an entourage of sorts. Ivan seemed to be leading the rest of the "regular" students, with a clear gap between them and Krum's group. Harry didn't really notice this special treatment for Krum before, but then again, he hadn't really been paying attention the first several times.

He quashed the distracting thoughts, as he needed his concentration for writing the message. The W's and M's were particularly difficult. Along with the G's, A's, and R's. E was an annoying letter to write as well. Come to think of it, every bit of it was annoying to write, especially the extra flourish he had to give for the H. Every line was a change in direction, and every time he had to strain his duster to its limits. He had to do it all quickly, or else they wouldn't even see the message before walking all the way to the castle, which meant zipping between letters at whiplash-inducing speeds. When he finally finished, he was sweating despite the cold northern Scottish winds, and his hands felt raw from gripping the duster so tightly.

When he looked back to see if he finished fast enough, he noticed that the Durmstrang students hadn't moved at all. They'd all stopped in their tracks and were staring at Harry. Including Krum.

"_Err… Escort team! Move further down the carpet! Get those Durmstrang students walking again! The rider team's getting tired and Beauxbaton's due in less than fifteen minutes!"_ Hermione was scrambling to keep things on schedule.

Surely enough, by the time the last Durmstrang students were ushered through the main doors, a distant speck could be seen on the horizon. Harry was too busy changing out the smoke canister _again_ to watch- but once you've seen a dozen giant flying horses pull a house-sized carriage, you've seen 'em all.

This time, they flew along the longest stretch of flat grass in front of Hogwarts before beginning a gradual ascent towards the approaching carriage. Behind them, the charms team was turning their smoke into a wide runway, complete with blinking lights. They maintained a steady flight towards the carriage but broke off early, careful not to spook the abraxans- one of the most aggressive and territorial winged horses in the world.

As they looped back, they were glad to see that the Beauxbatons driver had accepted their invitation and was following the path they had laid down through the air. For the people on the ground, it looked as if the horses were galloping along a flying road that lead to Hogwarts.

"_Rider team, get that whiskey ready! We need those abraxans calm and out of the way! Charms team, start charging those runes!"_

The carriage stopped exactly where they had planned (helpfully guided by the blinking lights), where the second part of the welcoming act began. Hagrid was the one who actually fed the abraxans their drink, as none of the students in the rider team could safely approach the beasts- they were mostly there as extra wands to transport a dozen barrels of whiskey. As soon as they were out of the way, the charms team's work sprang to life.

Knowing that Beauxbatons was more about elegance, subtlety, and smart use of magic, an archway of sparks from mounted wizards wasn't appropriate. Instead, a runic array greatly accelerated the growth of some pre-planted rose seeds to the point where the plants sprang to life and formed an series of arches from the entrance of carriage up to Hogwarts. Of course, due to the unnatural growth speeds, the plants would die out within an hour, but by then all the students would be inside the Great Hall. As the first students stepped out, they witnessed the plants create a garden path specifically for them. Dozens more were piling up at the windows of the carriage to get a better look.

Everything was running smoothly until they saw Madame Maxime step out behind her students. The archway formed by the climbing roses reached up a generous eleven feet high, which they checked with Hagrid for headroom. Unfortunately, Madame Maxime had dressed up for the occasion, with _up_ being the operative word. She must have been wearing eight-inch heels, and a hat with peacock feathers sticking straight up.

"_Charms team, don't stop. Gambert, Anderson, Professor Babbling, help me out,"_ Harry heard Hermione say. He noticed the four of them dart out, etching runes into sandstone as they ran. It took her little more than ten seconds to reach a part of the rune array- quick for running across a field, but a long time to be a headmistress standing around with nowhere to go.

"Anderson! I need an _Uruz_, not _Ansuz_! Professor Babbling, can you stack a _Siegel _on top of the _Sowilo_? Gambert, don't stop etching those _Laguns_! We need as many as you can make! One for every arch! Don't insert them there, it'll only make the arches thicker instead of taller!" Hermione's hands flew into action so quickly, even the professor could only comprehend her orders. Within seconds, it looked like the rose pathway was about to falter, but no more than a few petals fell from the flowers before it stabilized again. A few seconds later and the entire construct began to rise, growing an additional foot taller.

With enough clearance to keep her hat on, Madame Maxime strode forward after her students. While Hermione kept her eyes down to maintain the stability of the runic array, the headmistress was pointing out the masterful display of runework to her silver-haired student. Everyone could see she was impressed by her quick thinking and talent. As they passed her by, Madame Maxime thanked her for her efforts. Hermione could only manage a nod in reply as she was still furiously keeping the modified runic array from collapsing.

As soon as the Beauxbatons students passed through the castle's main doors, Hermione collapsed on her back and lay on the grass. Moments later, the artificial path collapsed, and a pile of brown leaves and wilted petals covered the ground. She was too exhausted to hear the cheering and was barely aware of being scooped into the arms of a black-haired boy.

* * *

"Dumbledore! Several of my students are insisting they meet the _great_ Harry Potter. Where is he?" Karkaroff demanded, letting his eyes roll as he drawled out the "_great_."

The wizend old wizard looked up from his breakfast. "I dare say my students should be allowed their privacy," he said. "I'm not sure if he will be in the mood to see you."

"Nonsense. He's a Quidditch fan, is he not? Would he turn down the chance to meet Viktor Krum in person? Now where is he?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore said nonchalantly. Now that he thought about it, he realized he _really_ didn't know, and he'd been meaning to look into Harry's invisibility cloak. None of the portraits had seen Harry since early this morning. He presumed the boy was getting an early start on the Hogsmeade weekend, but none of the portraits within the town had seen him, either. Even if the boy's cloak was still functional, none of the secret passageways' wards had been tripped, save for the Weasley twins making their way to honeydukes. And the castle's standard wards hadn't informed him of Harry's movements, either. The only assurance he had came from his little whirring instruments tied to Harry's health. Perhaps he could use an extra pair of eyes to search.

"The boy may have left the castle already. It is a Hogsmeade weekend, after all. If I were so young, and still had all my teeth, I'd be enjoying a nice, fresh, cockroach cluster from Honeydukes right now."

"You mean you don't even keep track of your students? Such delinquent and irresponsible behaviour would never occur in Durmstrang." Karkaroff left in a huff.

Dumbledore was about to return to his poached eggs when he was interrupted once again. This time, it was Professor Babbling. "Headmaster, have you seen Miss Granger today? Minerva told me she'd already left Gryffindor tower, but I didn't see her come down to the Great Hall for breakfast."

"Has Miss Granger caught your attention somehow? I haven't seen her either."

"Caught my attention? Her brain works faster than a snitch hopped up on hummingbird hooch. I still want her to explain exactly what she did yesterday with that arch! I mean, the runes she chose made sense, but _manual_ stabilization of a running rune array? That's talent I never thought I'd get to see in my lifetime!"

"Perhaps…" Dumbledore wondered if he could set two eyes on the same prize. Hermione wasn't nearly as important as Harry, but these days it seemed like the two of them came packaged together. Find one, and he'd find the other. "Well, she tends to spend time with Mr. Potter, doesn't she? The two of them are like two peas in a pod. Two teacups on a tray. Two classmates in a closet…"

"Now _there's_ an idea," Babbling said as she departed.

His fork had barely pierced the yolk when another shout interrupted him. "Oh, Dumbly-door!" The attention of a ten-foot-tall woman could hardly be denied. "Where is zat girl who fixed ze pathway _just_ for me? It was marvellous work, wouldn't you agree? I would like to zank 'er personally, and introduce 'er to a few of ze Beauxbatons students who study Runes also! We could not find 'er at ze feast last night!"

"That's very gracious of you, Olympe. I've been told she's already left her dormitories, so I wouldn't know where she is. Professor Babbling wants to speak with her on the same subject, perhaps you should seek her help?" Madame Maxime rushed off to catch up to Babbling, who had just disappeared around the corner.

"Dumbledore, you've got to tell me where Harry and Hermione are. There are dozens and dozens of foreign students _and_ teachers looking for him! I've called for an emergency Slug Club meeting, but I'm missing the key ingredients! Potter and Granger! This could be the single greatest opportunity for international student interaction this whole year!" Slughorn was looking more flustered than when he first went into hiding during the war with Voldemort.

_Just let me have my breakfast already_, Dumbledore thought. "With so many searching for Harry, you'd best make sure the entire Slug Club can stand out from the crowds. Perhaps if you all wore matching socks?"

"Come now, Albus. Be serious for a moment."

"I am perfectly serious, Horace. Socks are an excellent conversation starter. Make sure you bring extra pairs for Harry and Hermione when you find them."

Slughorn laughed, knowing from experience when he wasn't going to get anything more out of Dumbledore. As he walked away, a nervous-looking Ron Weasley was left standing in front of him.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley? My divination skills are not quite as astounding as Professor Trelawneys, but my inner ear tells me you're searching for Harry and Hermione. Or was that an inner eye?"

"Err… yes, sir…" Ron sputtered out.

"I would think that you or your housemates would know their whereabouts better than I," Dumbledore responded. "What makes you come to me?"

"I dunno. If Harry's got himself in a pinch then you always seem to know where he is."

"I can't say that I don't _always_ know where he is." _Although it would certainly help a lot if I did_.

"I 'spose not. It isn't June yet." Ron hurriedly separated himself from the staff table.

Finally, it was time to enjoy some _food!_ Dumbledore looked down at his plate at what used to be an egg. It had been replaced by a very familiar phoenix. Fawkes was busy pecking away at the remains of the hash browns, having polished off the egg sometime earlier.

"You know, Fawkes, some would consider that a form of cannibalism," chided Dumbledore. Fawkes squawked nonchalantly and flew off with a piece of bacon.

* * *

From a tunnel accessible only by Parseltongue, Harry and Hermione emerged deep in the Forbidden Forest.

"Are you sure about this, Hermione? You were dead tired after yesterday. Maybe we should hold off until the next Hogsmeade weekend…"

"I'm fine. We can't afford any more delays, anyway. Let's get that horcrux."

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- So, to answer a few reader questions (in general): Harry and Hermione _do_ want to still be students, for now- basically, they've learned everything up to sixth year and a bit of seventh (plus a lot of extra-curricular knowledge) but they feel that Hogwarts still has some things worth teaching to them.

- So far, I haven't really gone in-depth into how the time travel actually works. Because time-travel, in general, leads to funny paradoxes and such. Mostly because I'm still making sure there _is_ a strict set of rules for this to follow that I haven't already broken. Oh well.

- Random thoughts: following from the above, most people will say Harry Potter magic breaks the laws of physics. I always thought they didn't _have_ to, which is why I always want to have an explicit set of rules for each magical spell or effect. For example, the levitation spell. There's nothing in the laws of physics saying things can't levitate. All you have to do is exert a force on it. Could be from a rope, a table, magnets, air currents- anything. In fact, levitation should take almost zero energy- things sitting on a table take no energy to remain at the height that they do. Magic simply needs to find a way to exert the same forces, and cut out the middleman (i.e. the table). With that in mind, I generally view magic as simply a _very efficient tool_. Like a car that can move you very quickly, but without needing an inefficient two tons of metal to do it. Instead, we get broomsticks, which could probably run on the energy from body fat alone, if it's near 100% efficient.

- Conjuring/vanishing is still an odd issue, though. Simply a convenient teleportation and rearrangement of atoms? For vanishing, could it be dispersing atoms across the universe instantaneously (or at light speed?). It would make it _seem_ to vanish/appear from nothingness, because if something were to be dispersed over a sphere with a radius of one light-second, that's still 50x the radius of the earth. I doubt any wizard would have noticed that the object's atoms never _truly_ vanished.


	70. Biting Off More

**Author's Notes: **JKR could very well be a witch herself, and we'd never know...

- It's apparently Hermione's birthday today! (Sept 19) This is one of the facts never mentioned in the books- which is odd, considering how close a friend Hermione and Ron both were to Harry.

- It's also International Talk Like a Pirate day, which was invented in 1995... a year after the TWT, unfortunately.

* * *

**Chapter 70: Biting Off More**

Nobody would expect a British beach to be as enticing as those in Hawaii or the Virgin Islands, especially in mid-October. When Harry and Hermione arrived, it seemed to be especially miserable. Wind and rain pelted them immediately while waves of cold, salty water tried to soak their feet. Dryness spells had to be cast in order for Harry to even confirm they were in the right place.

The only times Voldemort had visited this place had been in the summer- once as a child on a trip with his orphanage, the other was a year after working for Borgin and Burkes. Decades had passed since then, but despite the weather, Harry could still recognize a few key features he pulled from Voldemort's memory. A few rocks had shifted, some trees had died, others had grown, some of the beach itself had eroded away... but there remained a familiar path, the one that led to the cave where Tom Riddle had lured two of his fellow orphans to experiment with his magic.

"This is it," Harry said, pointing. "It should be up those rocks and around the cliff. Probably safer if we fly." The two of them unpacked their brooms and slowly glided around the cliff face.

They scanned the rocky wall for any sign of a cave, but couldn't see anything. The rocky path got narrower and narrower, and yet the cliff remained solid. There was no way a group of ten-year-olds could have traversed this far. "We've passed it. It should have been only a few steps away from the sharp corner over there," Harry said.

"Probably charmed to be hidden from wizards. Let's double check," Hermione said, pulling her wand out. She repeatedly cast detection spells as they moved back along the path. "Aha! There it is," she said.

"Anything dangerous?" asked Harry.

"No. Just compulsions and illusions," Hermione said. With a final flick of her wand, the entire cliff face shimmered and revealed a narrow entrance to a cave. "There. Got it." The two of them flew inside, only to find that their brooms stopped working. Thankfully, they were close to the ground already, and both of them landed on their feet.

"Anti-flight wards?" Harry asked.

"And anti-apparition, too. I think the source is centered deeper in the cave, though."

They continued walking by the light of a _lumos_ spell until they came to a dead end. At least, it would have appeared to be a dead end. The two of them recognized runes in the wall, cleverly disguised as ordinary cracks.

"Um-Gebo, Naudiz, Amn-Mannaz. Hm… this feels familiar for some reason," Hermione said.

"Yeah, it does," Harry said. "Path… wounded living… triggered flow…?" He tried to translate as much as he could in his head, but the fact that the runes were hidden made it much more difficult. He wracked his brain for deeper memories pulled from Voldermort, but he'd been so focused on finding the location he didn't get information about the traps and passkeys within.

"Oh wait, this is silly. It's almost like the blood runes we've got. That's why I thought it was familiar," Hermione said.

"Huh?" Harry took a closer look. Things were arranged differently, but there were definite clusters regarding the flow of blood to trigger stored magic. The main difference here was that it was activated by the presence of live blood. "Hm. Blood sacrifice for entry, then. How… cliché, Voldemort."

"Wait. It's still a bit of a puzzle," Hermione said. "The array's incomplete. I think you need the blood in the right place... give me a minute." She conjured up some parchment and began scribbling. Harry watched her work, careful not to interrupt her. "There. Draw a line connecting Jah-Rido and Naudiz-Um. Might work better as a curve, actually."

Harry cast a light cutting charm on his thumb, and made a long, curved swipe between the two runes. As he healed the small wound, the rocks began to shift and rearrange themselves to form an archway. "Right in one. You're brilliant, Hermione."

"Thanks. Let's not get cocky now. We have no idea what's inside."

Past the arch was a cavern that housed what could only be described as a small lake. Harry had to overpower his _lumos_ and still just barely made out the far end of the cavern. Save for the small patch of rock they were standing on and an equally tiny island in the middle, murky water reached from wall to wall. The island had a podium in the center, clearly where they needed to go.

Hermione shot a _Lumos Excan_ into the water, but the bright flare of light was snuffed out after travelling only a few centimeters. It was impossible to tell how deep the water was, or if anything was hidden below. She cast several more detection charms over the water. "Well, the water's definitely enchanted for opaqueness. It's hiding something. Also, the rune anchors for the anti-flight and anti-apparition wards must be somewhere at the bottom."

"Yeah, I'm not going down there." They looked over at a small rowboat floating innocently beside them. "And that just has _'trap'_ written all over it. Do you think the anti-flight ward works only against brooms, or living things too?"

"I don't know, but I'd rather have a method that lets us have our wands and armour working properly in case something happens," Hermione said.

"Good thinking." They both looked at the rowboat again. Harry cast a weak banishing charm on it, sending it slowly drifting towards the island. After floating for several meters, it spontaneously sank. "Knew it!" he cried triumphantly.

"That's not exactly something to cheer about, Harry." Hermione gave him a chiding look.

Harry just shrugged in response. "Try levitating me. It _might_ evade the anti-flight ward."

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," Hermione chanted with perfect pronunciation. She could have done it silently, but she wanted the spell to be both perfect, and powerful. Harry didn't rise an inch.

"So much for that idea. There's always fumation," Harry said. He tried to concentrate on phasing his body into smoke, but felt completely off-balance. It was very much like his first fumation lesson all over again, having very little control over what parts of his body were dissociating. "I can't do it. There's some kind of ward against that, too. If I tried, I'd end up splinching myself."

"So, Voldemort's covered boats, fumation, levitation, and flight, mostly. There's one more thing I want to try before our animagus forms."

"I'm still not a very good swimmer," Harry commented as he stared at the water.

"I wasn't even going to suggest that," Hermione said. "Freezing charms! We could make a bridge out of ice!" Hermione suggested.

"That's a _lot_ of ice we have to make. I think it'd be better just to risk flying over," Harry said, but began to help her freeze the water anyway.

The ice sank.

"Ice… doesn't normally do that," Hermione commented.

Harry conjured a lightweight rubber ball like the ones he used to play with at primary school. Or that Dudley took from him, at any rate. That one sank too. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the water here just isn't as buoyant as normal water," Harry said. "Looks like I'll just fly over there now as Bandit. If something jumps out of the lake to try to eat me… well, have a good, lethal charm ready to cast."

"We still don't know if that'll work yet!" Hermione cried out as he shrunk down to his feathery form. "Here, just fly up to me first."

With a few powerful flaps, he perched on Hermione's outstretched arm. With a satisfied chirp and a nip on her ear for good luck, he took off and flew smoothly to the island.

"Well, that was completely uneventful," Harry shouted across the lake. "We should have tried that first. Ready to come over?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she replied. As she made her way over, he took a look around the small island. It was completely featureless other than the single podium in the center. Built into the podium was a basin, filled with a liquid of some sort, with a locket sitting at the bottom. _That's odd_, Harry thought. Doesn't _Slytherin's locket have more emeralds on it?_ It didn't feel like a horcrux, either. His mind was perfectly clear – no illogical desires to wear it or take over the world. At the side of the basin was an oyster shell. More runes were etched all over it. He cast several detection spells over the water, which turned out to be a potion of some kind. A few of the ingredients pointed to some kind of hallucinogen, nonlethal poisons that caused pain, and a few assorted herbs and fungi.

Not wanting to touch the potion, Harry conjured a stick and tried to fish out the locket. The stick hit the surface of the potion as if it were rock solid, despite the soft rippling. He spied additional runes along the edge of the basin, some of which matched up with the ones etched on the oyster shell. He scooped up some of the potion and poured it over the side several times, but the basin never emptied. The rocks he poured the potion on didn't even seem to get wet- it seemed to return itself directly to the basin.

He heard Hermione land softly and transform beside him. "What have you got?" she asked.

"Seems like this potion here is impenetrable other than by the oyster shell," Harry said. "And I think it can't be emptied other than by drinking. We'll save that as a last resort," he said.

"Let me see." Hermione checked over the runes herself, confirming Harry's interpretation of the array. Skipping over to the potion part, though, she paused for a second. "Okay, Voldemort either revolutionized the entire brewing industry while still in his teens, or…"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Hermione fished out a bezoar. "Or this isn't really a potion, just water mixed with a few ingredients. You can't just add water to a pile of herbs and call it a potion. So Voldemort has to come here and brew a new batch of potion himself to keep this topped up, or he figured out a way to automatically brew potions without the _very_ important component – the witch or wizard brewing it. Or this is just water and some leaves. The _real_ issue is the power coming from the runes…"

"Which only allow it to be drunk," Harry said, staring at the locket at the bottom. "Beozar or no, that water's probably as healty as piss."

"Harry! Language." Hermione scolded. "Well, it's not like we could just conjure a camel or something."

"…we can't?" Harry asked, raising his wand and putting on a silly grin.

"Harry…" Hermione said with a stern look. They both knew that living transfigurations and conjurations were by far the most difficult of the art, and an animal large enough to drink all that water would be quite draining.

"Fine. Wait… there's got to be a simpler answer," Harry said. He put on his dragonhide gloves and grabbed the oyster shell again. This time, he dug as deep as he could into the potion, but the shell wasn't large enough to reach the locket before the gloves hit the seemingly rock-hard water. "Darn," he said.

He nearly dropped it when the shell grew three times larger in his hands. "Try it again," said Hermione.

He smiled, this time scraping the bottom of the basin and scooping up the locket with it. As he poured out the potion, it returned to the basin as it was designed to, but the locket clattered on the ground. "That seemed so simple," he said. "It's always _after _you solved it when the puzzles seem so obvious."

Wasting no time, he unwrapped the basilisk fang he'd brought with him and shoved it through the locket. The venom made quick work of the little trinket, as if there were no protections for it to burn through at all. When the fang poked through the opposite side, Harry yanked it off the fang. There was no smoke, no otherworldly scream, no little bit of soul dissociating from this plane of existence.

"Was this really the horcrux?" Hermione asked, staring through the hole in the locket.

"Didn't feel like one," Harry said. "Especially since this was supposed to be his very last one. I was hoping for something more exciting. You know, beam of light to the heavens, a good version of Tom's ghost giving us a 'job well done,' Death himself showing up and telling us he's had an itch for the past fifty years…"

"Don't tell me you're actually expecting any of that," Hermione chuckled.

"No," Harry quickly replied, laughing with her. "But I overhear a lot of when the Ravenclaws play _Wizards and Wyverns _in the Great Hall during holidays. Something fantastic always happens when they finally eliminate the big bad boss or find the last ancient treasure. Would've been helpful to know right away if we're actually finished or not." He dangled the locket in front of him and peered through the hole that the fang had created. "Wait… there's something inside of it!"

Harry opened up a locket, which contained a tiny piece of parchment, folded up. Due to the fang, most of it was burned through. Carefully, they opened up the locket and unfolded the parchment, which was already crumbling to pieces.

_To th-  
__I kn- efore you-ecret. I  
__ha- destroy-ce  
__death-eet you - ortal  
__once more.__  
_

_R.A.-_

"I can't make heads or tails of this," Harry said. "I just dissolved ninety percent of the message in venom."

"I think it's pretty clear that this _isn't_ the real Horcrux. I mean, aside from the lack of a soul departing, I don't think Voldemort would leave a note for himself. He doesn't seem to be the sentimental type."

"But who's Mr. R A? Friend? Foe?"

"He could already be dead. This could have been swapped any time in the past forty years. Nobody's checked up on it since. The real locket could be anywhere."

"Or maybe destroyed?" Harry suggested hopefully.

"Or in the hands of another Death Eater and making its way to Voldemort as we speak."

"Don't be so pessimistic."

"I prefer realist, thank you. That note could be for us. Maybe something like, 'To the attackers of the dark lord: I know you have not alerted the aurors. Therefore you are attempting this in secret. I have removed the horcrux you intend to destroy. Something something something, meet you and kill you all once we ensure that he is immortal once more.' It's not like there are many other people who extracted Voldemort's memories _and_ have avian animagus forms coming by every day. Whoever did this probably had permission and instructions."

"Did any Death Eaters escape our raid that day? I thought we caught all of them. Killed some," Harry reluctantly admitted.

"Maybe that wasn't all of them. One or two could have been out of the house. Could be something as random as grocery shopping."

"We can worry about that later," Harry said. "Let's get out of here."

It was only after he morphed into an osprey, with its keen eyesight and instinct for fishing, that he noticed the barest of ripples underneath the surface of the water. He flew up to get a better look when he saw it- it was a human hand at the edge of the island. He let out a screech to warn Hermione. The little burrowing owl wasn't a powerful flyer, and Hermione herself didn't spend nearly as much time as Harry did in the air. She couldn't take off with as much speed or height as Harry did.

An unusually long arm shot out of the water and made a snatch at Stilts. She managed to evade it, but tumbled in the attempt. Another hand shot up trying to reach her again. Again, she had to swerve, this time losing even more height and nearly skimming the water. A surge of water rose up beside her and a skeletal form leapt out of the water, practically enveloping the tiny bird. Harry could only watch in horror as Hermione turned back into a witch, wand in hand as she sank below the surface, tackled by an undead monster.

Harry did the only thing he could think of. He returned to human form and cast a bubble-head charm as he was falling down. He needed another powerful _lumos_ to see underwater.

Inferi. The lake was _full_ of inferi.

They were swarming towards him, but there was another cluster already gathered around Hermione. He could feel the shockwaves as she cast bone-shattering curses and blasting hexes at her attackers. He transfigured his shoes into flippers as Hermione had done, and swam before he was overwhelmed himself. He chained together multiple bone-breaking charms, tried partially transfiguring some inferi into lead, and tying others up. He settled on a modified duelling combo involving a sticking charm, bone-breaker, and banishing charm let him rapidly immobilize and repel inferi.

Incredibly thankful for his experience in the Trial of Water, Harry began blasting away at inferi who were starting to overwhelm Hermione until he could reach her. There was no time for a happy reunion, though, as they both started fighting off inferi, back-to-back. Harry knew he needed something to take them all down before they tired. The sheer numbers of these things would take them all day to destroy one by one. Inferi were weak to fire, but they were underwater. _Nice thinking, Voldemort. _He had to grudgingly acknowledge his nemesis.

But there were always alternatives. He'd absorbed a few of Voldemort's memories. He had Fiendfyre- which would easily burn underwater, but not something he'd use with his girlfriend in the middle of the fray. The situation was growing desparate- it seemed like he had to risk being bitten to death or burned to death with uncontrollable fire. There _had_ to be something he could use. Banishing charms and bone-shattering spells could only take out one at a time, and the horde seemed limitless.

Voldemort wouldn't have created a trap so deadly that he would have killed himself over it, would he? How did _he_ deal with inferi that were out of control? Harry dug deep into the memories he'd pulled from Voldemort's mind. Fragments. Scraps. He'd been lucky enough to find the location of the horcrux in the mess of memories. Inferi- fiendfyre. More inferi- more fiendfyre. Voldemort was proficient enough at the deadly spell that he simply used the deadliest fire spell in existence on every whim. Damn.

Fire. Fire was the key. There were other types of fire- bluebell fire. Useless. Dragonfire. Useless underwater. He could remember now. Or, more accurately, Tom Riddle had remembered. A restricted textbook- detailing a unique type of fire spell. Riddle's memory jogged Harry's own- he'd skimmed over the same textbook at some point for the Triwizard Tournament, but decided it hadn't been useful – he'd only found it after the Trial of Water. Well, it was certainly worthwhile to try it now. There was nothing left to lose.

"_Pyrkagio Filosof!_" Harry cried out. Supposedly an easy spell, limited only by raw magical power and control. Greek fire, Philosopher's fire, Liquid fire- it had many names. But its defining characteristic was its ability to burn _anywhere_. It didn't have the ferocious temperatures or the semi-sentient nature of fiendfyre, but it certainly was versatile.

If he cast it correctly, that is. Only a sputter of flame, which _did_burn as it floated away, came out of his wand. He must have got the pronunciation wrong. "_Malleossis! Epoximise! Depulso!_" Harry chained together several basic spells to keep the inferi from advancing. He didn't have to kill every individual one now- once he got that Greek fire spell right, _all_ of them would burn. He quickly let off a dozen spells to keep another wave of inferi from advancing, and tried again.

"_Pyrkagio Filosof!"_ he yelled, altering the accent and emphasis slightly. This time, a short stream of flame came out, igniting to inferi. They continued to mindlessly advance despite the flames, so Harry had to banish them further away- but the important thing was that they _did_ burn. He only had a few more chances perfect the charm before they were completely overrun.

He heard a muffled shout from behind him with a familiar sound. A quick glance told him Hermione was trying the same spell he was. It didn't surprise him that she knew the spell too, probably from one of the textbooks in the Restricted Section at Hogwarts – perhaps even the same textbooks Tom Riddle learned it from. It looked like she was having just as much luck as he was.

Still, some fire was better than none, and fire had the nice property of setting other things on fire. The first two inferi he'd lit up had ignited a few others as they sank. Harry cast the spell again as best he could, setting several more on fire. He tapped Hermione on the shoulder and pointed to the island- they had cleared enough space to swim to safety now. Hermione nodded in understanding, and they kicked as quickly as they could back to land, spewing as much fire as they could behind them as they could. Dozens more inferi burned in their trail.

Harry climbed out first, wand at the ready. He noticed Hermione wasn't climbing out nearly as fast.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, bending down. He instinctively cast a levitation charm to help her, only to find it didn't work. Of course. He grabbed her arm with his free hand.

"OWWW! Wait, wait… I think that arm might be broken." Hermione winced in pain. The light armour had done its job for the most part, stopping scratches and bites, but several of them had been shaking and slamming her in the struggle. Harry held her under the armpits and quickly dragged her partway up, stopping to blast another few inferi that were starting to emerge. Hermione cast Greek fire on the surface of the water, forming a burning barrier around the edge of the island as she pushed herself back up.

"We haven't got any Skele-gro. You'll have to make do with an _episkey_. Can you get the armour off yourself?" Harry blasted away with regular incendiary charms at the inferi that were starting to make their way out of the water, adding more flames to the firewall around the lake.

"No. Not here. No time for proper treatment," Hermione said. "Do you have any Pepper-up left? I think most of my potions were smashed to bits as I was fighting."

"Here." Harry handed her a bottle while extending the burning perimeter some more. He could see the bottom of the lake emit a dull glow- it looked like the fires were still burning. There must have been a _lot_ of bodies down at the bottom. Once he completed the circle of flame around the entire patch of land, he took a look at Hermione's shoulder.

Harry looked over it more carefully. It was swollen all around, and Hermione winced in pain no matter where he touched it. It looked like it would be better with a visit to the infirmary, nothing too bad to worry about. A more thorough scan of her body revealed a small gash at the back of the ankle near the Achilles' tendon- a small gap between the armour and her shoes which was bleeding. "You've been cut here! You could be infected!"

"What was that?" Hermione asked wearily while finishing off the bottle of Pepper-up. Her face was flushed, and her eyelids were droopy. Not the condition you'd expect right after downing _that_ potion.

"Hermione? How are you feeling?" Harry had to delay his diagnostic charm to take down another two burning inferi. The air now had an acrid scent of burning flesh and smoke, but he ignored it as best he could. He didn't want to think about how badly it could be affecting Hermione.

"Really tired… got another Pepper-up? The first one didn't seem to do the job," she said, lolling her head.

Harry finally managed to get the diagnostic charm on the cut, and it revealed what he feared: she had a cursed infection. He couldn't tell what it was, so he splashed on an all-purpose medical potion on the wound and handed his remaining Pepper-up to Hermione. He cast an _Enervate_ spell for good measure. "Hermione? Listen to me. You have to focus. Change into your animagus form, and I'll carry you out of here. I have to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

"What? Alright, Harry. Be gentle with me," she said, slowly shrinking into a burrowing owl.

"I'm sorry, Stilts," he whispered to her. "This might hurt a bit." Looking around, he could see more and more inferi step through the flames, unable to feel pain from the burning. Most of them collapsed to ash before coming within arm's length, but some of the faster ones came dangerously close to taking a bite. He cleared the area with the strongest flame whip he could, whirling it around and overhead. It only bought him a few extra seconds, but it was enough to transform into Bandit and carefully pick up Stilts into his claws. Normally anything in those sharp talons would soon be dead, but he was hoping for just the opposite now. He held her as gently as possible, but the last thing he wanted was to drop her into the water.

He took off before the next wave of inferi could reach him, leaving the island of burning flesh behind. and landed in the safety of the archway entrance. Turning back into a human, he picked up Hermione's tiny form in his hands. His talons had pierced her skin in a few spots, but hadn't dug deep, thankfully. She was completely unconscious now, but he could feel her tiny heart beating quickly. He cast _episkey_ a few times, hoping it would be as effective on owls as it would be on humans, and then tucked her safely inside his shirt. Without a second glance at the cave, Harry apparated back to Hogsmeade.

* * *

The distinctive _crack_ of apparition was a familiar sound within the wizarding world, one that most would tune out automatically without second thought. This year in Hogsmeade, there was so much extra traffic due to the Triwizard Tournament that nobody noticed a case of underage apparition.

Harry knew it would have been better to apparate into the back alleys, but he was so tired that he had to aim for the public apparition point instead. He needed to get medical attention for Hermione, secrecy be damned. The last thing she needed was a splinching. He received another spike of adrenaline when he heard the words, "-Harry Potter."

"We 'ave searched zis place so much, I think now know zis village better than my own 'ometown. Are you certain your students are not allowed to leave ze grounds?" The French giantess asked the Hogwarts runes professor. Both of them were facing the opposite way, paying no mind to Harry's arrival. He didn't bother announcing himself before taking off at full speed on his broom.

"Vat kind off broom was that?" Krum asked, trying to wave the dust away from his face. "I haff never heard of a broom vith so much kick!"

"Perhaps eet is ze Nimbus Company's response to ze Firebolt? Do zey test brooms 'ere?" Fleur asked.

"No, they don't," came a deep, elderly voice from behind them. "And to answer your question, Maxime, the students are _not_ allowed to leave without a parent or guardian's permission. If you don't mind, I'm rather curious where he's been as well." Dumbledore walked past all of them towards the castle, tracking the tiny speck in the distance as it flew through an open window straight into the infirmary. The others looked at each other, and immediately began following the Hogwarts headmaster.

The sight of the three respective headmasters striding purposefully together along with their star pupils made others jump out of their way- but also drew a crowd. Their path was unimpeded until they reached the Hogwarts infirmary, where the school nurse stood with a hand on each door, ready to slam both of them shut.

"You can't _all_ be injured. What's the disaster?" Pomfrey asked Dumbledore.

"Ah, Poppy. I was only wishing to speak to Harry Potter," he responded. "I fear he may have broken a few school rules."

Pomfrey could barely contain a snort of disbelief. She'd already seen Potter numerous times in her infirmary over the years for various types of rule-breaking, and the headmaster had never been particularly interested before. "Be that as it may, headmaster, my patients are allowed _some_ right to privacy. And _that_ does not fit the definition of privacy by any stretch of the imagination," she said, peering past the Headmaster at the crowd that had gathered.

Aside from the original group, there were now curious students, journalists, and even a few townsfolk from Hogsmeade, all wondering what the big fuss was about. Dumbledore turned to address them. "Ah. As fabulous as Madam Pomfrey's services are, I'm sure you can all find better-tasting brews at the Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head. Now, unless you have pressing issues with one of the patients, I will have to ask you to remain outside while I-"

He was interrupted by the sound of oaken doors slamming shut.

"Poppy?" There was no response to his knocking.

In all the hubbub, nobody noticed a small green beetle skittering across the ceiling and into the infirmary just before the doors slammed shut. Rita Skeeter was immediately greeted with a tabloid-worthy sight, that of Harry Potter heaving into a pail as if he'd just downed an entire bottle of Firewhiskey. And since "speculative journalism" was one of her specialities, that scenario was as profitable as whatever the truth could be. She could have left and published a story with that alone, but she decided to stick around. The truth was useful on occasion.

"Calm down, Mr. Potter. Miss Granger is in stable condition now."

"Thank goodness," Harry said. "But it's not just her…rrRRKK!" He heaved into the pail once more, although nothing came up.

"My goodness, Potter. Don't tell me you've been hiding inferi wounds on your own body!"

_Inferi? Now this could be juicy! Or horrific. Now, what would people want to hear more, The-Boy-Who-Lived saves us from an unknown inferi attack… or The-Boy-Who-Lived, dabbling in the dark arts and nearly killing his girlfriend in the process? _Skeeter thought.

"No, it's not that, it's… the smell. Burnt flesh. It reminds me of an… unpleasant experience I once had," Harry said.

"I would think confronting inferi would be unpleasant enough!"

"Cutting them down wasn't too difficult. They were already dead," Harry croaked out. He shuddered a little. "Please, Madam Pomfrey. Don't tell Dumbledore about this."

"You know I have a duty to report any rule-breaking I come across, and I'm quite certain you didn't run into inferi in Hogsmeade," she answered. "But all he needs to know is that you left the grounds- the more personal details aren't important."

"Isn't being an animagus breaking a rule too?" Harry asked weakly.

"Not one of Hogwart's rules," Pomfrey replied. "When it comes to the Ministry- if they don't ask, I won't tell. Simple as that. You do know that the transformation is what's saved her life? Thank goodness the infection couldn't spread within an owl's body. She'll make a full recovery by the day after tomorrow."

_Illegal animagus too? This is GOLD! I'm definitely going with the dark-arts angle now. After all, there's no news like bad news. _The irony of the situation was entirely lost on Skeeter.

"There _is_ a matter I must discuss with you, however. You've managed to hide those blood runes on your back quite well, but it would never escape a thorough medical checkup. What are they for, Harry? Why do both of you have them?"

The look on Harry's face told Rita all she needed to start writing. It was a shame she didn't have a bug-sized camera on her. _Guilty, guilty, guilty. It's written all over him. Blood runes, illegal animagus… what's he going to do next? Threaten to kill that nurse?_

His voice came out lower than usual, practically monotone from his efforts to calm himself. "Madam Pomfrey. Please drop the issue."

"Mr. Potter, these could have serious repercussions in the long term! I'm detecting a constant drain on your magical energy, for one."

"Yes, that's how they were designed," Harry continued, facing Hermione instead of Pomfrey as he spoke.

"Mr. Potter… Harry, I'm worried these could kill you in the long run! Blood runes have good reason to be categorized as dark magic!"

"Madam Pomfrey, I'd already be dead if it weren't for these. Now _please_ drop the issue." The wand that silently slid into Harry's left hand, out of Pomfrey's sight, didn't escape Rita's notice.

Pomfrey could easily sense the imminent threat and backed down. "You're not the same boy I treated last year, are you?"

"No. No I'm not," Harry admitted easily.

"Was it the dementors?"

"I can't say they didn't play a part."

_He's being too evasive to give any real answers. Well, everyone knows dementors were stationed at Hogwarts… so, let's say, Dementor Create Dark Lord Potter! No, wait, that's a little too outlandish. I need someone to blame for all of this. Fudge! He put the dementors there! Dementor Decision Darkens Britain's Brightest Boy! Nothing like a good dose of public outrage. Journalist of the year award goes to me!_ Rita, having heard enough, decided to look for the nearest beetle-sized opening in the room and scurry outside.

She looked for the nearest place to start writing before she forgot any of the details- that is, until she was suddenly trapped in an unbreakable glass jar.

"Well, well, what have we got here?" Rita couldn't recognize the voice, muffled by the glass. She did her best to play dumb. Walk around, wave an antenna, walk some more in a random direction…

"Skeeter. You're not fooling anyone. An illegal animagus? This could end your career, unless we make a deal. Now look at me." He held the jar up to his face. Rita caught a glance, but turned around quickly. It was that new staff member, what was his name? She couldn't recall; he didn't seem important at the time. It didn't matter. Just keep pretending to be a dumb little beetle.

"Skeeter, your _other_ option is to be dipped in formaldehyde and pinned to my insect collection. Now look at me when I talk to you."

Rita turned around slowly and stared at her captor. Some man she'd probably seen before, passed by in the halls or streets or somewhere, utterly forgettable. He felt like one of a dozen people she'd met at a party and subsequently mixed up all their names and facial features. Was he another journalist? A new staff member at Hogwarts? One of the staff from the other schools? A Hogsmeade resident? The girl's father, perhaps? She didn't have a clue.

"I'll let you go this time, Skeeter. You can write on anything about the Triwizard Tournament as you see fit- but nothing on Harry Potter or Hermione Granger. Understand? Anything related to them, however remote, you hand over to me." He brought the jar close as he grinned ferally, his teeth taking up Rita's entire field of view. She had a feeling that this man really wouldn't mind chewing on bugs to make a point.

He vanished the jar around her, finally letting her return to human form. "Who are you?" she asked warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Those questions I only answer to those who need to know. And all _you_ need to know is that if you don't give me everything you have on Potter and Granger, your life will become a living hell. Now show me what you've got," he said, putting out his palm as if he were expecting her to pass some notes along.

Skeeter stood her ground, unsure if it was fear, bravery, or stupidity holding her there. "Hey, if you didn't notice, I was a beetle this whole time. I haven't written anything down yet."

"That's not what I asked for," he said, raising his hand to cup her jaw. Once he stared straight into her eyes, she no longer had control of her memories.

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes**:

- I never really got around to cataloguing exactly how much Harry ripped out of Voldemort's mind last time they met...

- One thing I never really figured out is _where_ Voldemort got all the bodies to fill that lake with inferi. From what I can tell, he created the whole thing _before_ the war started, so it's not like he had a huge supply of dead bodies already. And if they were all muggles... well, that's like a small town's worth of bodies in the lake. Unless he really did wipe a town off the map. Hm...

- One proposal I've heard for the (canon) attempt on the locket: bring Fawkes. That would have made things so easy. Fawkes can lift heavy loads (carry Dumbledore and Harry over), heal Dumbledore after he drinks up the water (if conjured camels can't drink it for him), and sing his song to stop Dumbledore from being super-depressed. I guess that's what happens when you put game-breaking elements in your story and forget about them. Also, nearly problem in Harry Potter can be solved using Time Turners, so there's that...


End file.
